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Tl;Dr: "Maboroshi" is a stunning anime bursting at the seams with intriguing storytelling, great cinematic moments, and raw emotion. But it’s also a show with some notable caveats. The first is that there are character moments in here that push the needle too far in terms of shock value and novelty. For the most part, I thought the characters in this show are portrayed well within the show’s odd, mature setting. However, there are at least a couple of character moments that come across as needlessly gross, while others at times feel unjustified or underdeveloped. These abrupt points of whiplash in the story are part ... of a larger issue surrounding the show: that being a shortage of organic character development. Notably, the second act struggles to convincingly connect the other thirds of the film together. Key story beats that feel like they come out of nowhere, as the screenplay sacrifices coherency in exchange for cryptic symbolism. On that note, despite my praise so far in this review, there’s a decent chance that some audiences may come away from "Maboroshi" dissatisfied. The movie’s medley of supernatural elements and shocking twists might leave you not knowing what to think of it all.

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This is a spoiler-free excerpt of my full "Maboroshi" review, originally published as a video essay on YouTube. For a full analysis on "Maboroshi"'s heavy symbolism and themes, do check out my profile to learn more.

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A terrible explosion at a steel factory has just shattered the night sky into a million pieces. Everything was about to change. And then, nothing would change ever again. After that night, time began to behave differently, trapping the survivors of the explosion in a strange stasis. These inhabitants of the seaside town of Mifuse are still allowed to go about their day, although the day never changes. With no escape or contact with the outside world, a never-ending winter now mysteriously hangs over Mifuse. "Maboroshi" introduces us to a town that cannot move on from the fallout, a people perpetually trapped in time and remembrance — an existential crisis after the explosion. The radio plays the same live broadcast of the programme heard on that fateful night. A pregnant woman roams around the town with an empty stroller, as she carries a child that cannot be born. The kids at Middle School cannot age, as they lie trapped in a nightmarish Neverland, never to see adulthood. While the town of Mifuse is forever frozen in winter, the passage of time is still deeply felt throughout the town’s inhabitants. So many days have gone by, and yet, none at all. Rather than spend its runtime dealing with the chaos that emerges in the wake of disaster, "Maboroshi" finds its horror in a long-term aftermath, trapping its characters in an existence with no meaning. That hopelessness weighs heavy on Masamune Kikuiri; a boy with talent, ambitions and dreams unfulfilled. So long as the snow continues to fall from a cracked sky, he will remain Forever Fourteen.

Reminiscent of the movies Makoto Shinkai has made over the past decade, "Maboroshi" invokes the supernatural and alludes to real-life tragedy. In order to understand what makes the "Maboroshi" so haunting, we first should compare this imagery to its origin. The damaged steel factory looms large over Mifuse, a fictional seaside town that takes after its real counterpart, Fukushima, which was the site of a tragic disaster that took place on March 11, 2011. The aftermath of the Fukushima Daiichi Power Plant explosion has left monumental damage in its wake. It will take several years for the soil and sea to be fully cleansed from its uninhabitable radiation; meanwhile, the healing process for the Japanese people may take even more time. But after confronting what’s likely the worst experiences of their lives, it’s my hope that the survivors of March 11 have since picked themselves up and moved towards the future. In contrast, no such future exists in the frozen temporal hellscape of Mifuse. "Maboroshi" ‘s director and screenwriter Mari Okada takes this backdrop and amplifies a feeling of despair through the use of supernatural elements, ensuring that the townspeople are literally unable to move on with their lives. "Maboroshi" holds the human spirit hostage at its lowest point, and asks: “What am I living for?” This question will go on to define the rest of the film, as our characters come across crushing revelations.

In "Maboroshi", Okada subtly crafts a thought experiment founded on nihilism, with the people of Mifuse having their lives stripped of almost all meaning. The film makes the great decision of exploring these existential conditions through the eyes of Masamune Kikuiri and his fellow teenage schoolmates. The youth are the perfect vessels for dealing with "Maboroshi" ‘s themes. Adolescence is the time in our life spans in which we are at our most uncertain and aimless — the time where we’re most likely to ask that question: “What am I living for?” With reality continuously making less and less sense, these teens have resorted to cheap thrills: teasing, violence, acts of attrition, and tests of courage — anything to feel something again. There’s a certain numbness that can be observed throughout "Maboroshi" ; be it through the crass, careless way in which our characters interact, or through the film’s gorgeous cinematography and OST. Taken in as a whole, the film’s atmosphere is edgy in a manner that feels odd, yet both intentional and essential in fully following through on Okada’s bold vision. This thought experiment created is full of mystery, and its unorthodox storytelling will keep you guessing all the way till the credits roll. What exactly are the supernatural occurrences that have befallen Mifuse? When will it all end? Can the adults be trusted in guiding the people through this strange new world order? And just who is the secret child that these leaders have stashed away in Blast Furnace #5? The journey to solving these mysteries is rich in harsh character drama, culminating in an emotional third act capable of pulling your heart in all directions. My favorite aspect of "Maboroshi" is its bold willingness to uncompromisingly explore its unusual ideas, achieving narrative and storytelling outcomes that are only possible in its engaging world.

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Once again, do check out my profile to find my full analysis on "Maboroshi". Feel free to check out my other reviews for seasons past and present, peace~

Tl;Dr:

A refreshing reversal of the isekai genre, "Paripi Koumei" is reincarnation done right. Neatly juggling elements of music and Chinese history, this reverse-isekai earnestly makes a connection almost no one knew they wanted. The mastermind MC and his ensemble cast are gifted with solid character writing. Superb strategies and comedy ensure that the viewing experience is an absolute delight to follow. The importance of "Koumei's" infectious fun cannot be understated. This series is a certified Chitty Chitty Bang Bang-er. 7/10~

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"Me meeting Kong Ming is like fish meeting water."
- Source: Liu Bei, "Records of the Three Kingdoms"


... "Ya boi loves 'Ya Boi'."
- Source: Trust Me Bro

"Paripi Koumei" strikes me as a show whose ideas were picked out of a hat. If DALL·E 2 and other A.I. programmes are currently defining what's possible when leaving humans out of the creative process, we'd still be light years away from whatever the heck this show is supposed to be. "Koumei's" premise somehow feels more random than random, and I mean that in the very best way. Even as a skeptic who had his reservations going into the series premiere, it didn't take long for me to get hit with "Koumei's" infectious appeal. Make no mistake: "Koumei" is greater than the sum of its parts, with an arrangement as crazy as it is carefully calibrated to leave its audience grinning from start to finish. For anyone as unconvinced as I once was, join me in attempting to understand this underdog story. This review is spoiler-free, with a Tl;Dr below. Without further ado, let's jam.

Full disclosure, I think getting through this show's synopsis is the toughest part about liking "Koumei".

When coming across it for the first time I suffered a mild stroke, or at least some approximation of the malady that befalls MC. Zhuge Kongming, Imperial Chancellor of Shu Han, is introduced fighting against an illness, whilst his soldiers prepare for their own battle against an army in hot pursuit. Loyal statesman and strategist, Kongming found that his nation-building ambitions would outlast his physical body. Historical ambiguity aside, this fictional iteration of the figure laments letting down his Emperor: the late Liu Bei, who dreamed of ending the war under the unifying cause of peace. Dreaming of a reality where such peace exists, Kongming bids farewell to 3rd-Century China and finds himself in the afterlife, which sure as hell bears striking resemblance to a Halloween costume party in modern-day Shibuya, Japan. That night he stumbles upon a nightclub and its part-time performer Eiko, who captivates the reincarnated strategist through song. Eiko's passion has yet to get her music career off the ground, but Kongming is convinced of her abilities… and offers to be her talent manager… with the hope of "bringing peace to the world."

Granted, we are talking about anime here, where the threshold for weirdness gets absolutely shattered on a seasonal basis. That being said, I initially wasn't prepared for the apparent incompatibility of "Koumei's" weird premise: a military mastermind from ancient China striving for world peace by booking live gigs for a small-time nightclub act. What I also didn't account for was how everything would come together really well.

"Koumei" has a game plan, named "Authenticity."


It comes in four steps, and can be understood through the "Thirty-Six Stratagems," a series of tactics Kongming frequently references in the anime. Let's take a page out of his playbook and figure out what makes "Koumei" work!

Borrow a corpse to resurrect the soul (借屍還魂).
--- Revive something from the past by giving it a new purpose, or reinterpret it to your advantage.


Taking this proverb to a rather literal extreme, "Koumei's" awesome application of this strategy comes from its reincarnated "corpse" (husbando) MC. With the wit to match the might of a thousand 2D men, Kongming hard-carries "Koumei". He's always a treat to see on-screen. As expected, there are laughs to be had at the befuddled boomer's expense as he discovers how the blockchain works, but there's more to the character than these comedic juxtapositions. By remaining one step ahead of viewers, Kongming constantly demonstrates how well-thought-out he is, as audiences attempt to wrap their heads around his various motives and plans. On top of his smarts, Kongming also carries a diplomat's grace and respectable virtue when interacting with other cast members. Finally, it's clear that the guy's having a fun blast in the 21st Century, with the willing resolve to put himself out there and try out new things. All these attributes make for a well-defined and distinct protagonist who's a joy to watch. Thanks to these great ingredients, authenticity flows freely from Kongming, as this engaging enigma trades self-insert tropes for well-defined quirks that all feel purposeful as a fictional reinterpretation of this historical figure, who's a strong contender for my Best Boi of 2022.

Admittedly, my fondness for this refreshing character partly stems from my biased distaste for the sea of dull, interchangeable MC archetypes courtesy of isekai & LN trends. So for those who do find themselves content with these mainstream conditions (which is perfectly OK,) maybe Kongming's appeal isn't gonna resonate as strongly with you as it did me. But the story doesn't end here, because the authenticity of "Koumei's" MC extends to the series as a whole.

Lure the tiger out of the mountains (调虎离山)
--- It is always wise to bring your competition out of a situation that favors him, to a position that favors you.


This strategy states the importance of home-ground advantage when getting the drop on the opp. In storytelling, getting viewers to ask questions can reliably increase interest in a story, as opposed to playing it safe in familiar "tropey" territory. Due to the novelty of its unusual premise, "Koumei" hits the ground running in this regard, by limiting the audience's ability to anticipate what will happen next. Presumably like most people, I don't really know what shows I could reasonably compare "Koumei" with. Thankfully, the series' moving parts click in a way that's both fresh and satisfying. Early plotlines in "Koumei" revolve around our lead protagonist's mind games as a manager maestro. Kongming is tasked with giving Eiko the exposure she deserves. With limited promotional resources at hand, he is forced to square-up against more-established talent groups for audience engagement. Our tactician's goal involves beating the underdog's odds and employing creative methods of drawing crowds, so that Eiko can work her magic. The writing makes these unpredictable encounters satisfying to piece together, and rarely slows down. The strategic schemes our mastermind employs grow in complexity and scope to match the exponentially-rising trajectory of Eiko's career. Fun curveballs and detours incrementally throw us off the show's scent, thereby keeping us guessing on our toes. "Koumei" carefully drip-feeds answers on its own terms, leaving viewers hooked. Questions create intrigue and interest. And boi, does "Ya Boi" have some odd interests.

Take the opportunity to pilfer a goat (順手牽羊)
--- While carrying out one's plans, be flexible enough to take advantage of any opportunity that presents itself, however small.


Ever the opportunistic comedy, "Koumei" makes the most out of its unusual premise. While the previous proverb is about getting the audience to ask questions, this step emphasizes the need for a story to provide answers. And here was my million dollar question: "In a story about a music manager, what can Zhuge Kongming and his time period bring to the table?" My big gripe prior to starting the show was with why the show would structure itself around such strangely specific subject matter. Despite going into "Koumei" without any knowledge of Chinese history, I now come away convinced that this is a good creative decision. The series regularly draws from the rich well of historical anecdotes documented in 3rd-Century literature collections such as the "Romance of the Three Kingdoms". While I find it kinda convenient that Eiko's boss and nightclub owner, Mr. Kobayashi, just so happens to be a massive nerd for "Three Kingdoms", the lore-filled conversations between him and Kongming serve important roles throughout the show. Not only do these trivia chats function as entertaining bouts of backstory between present-day scenes, but they also provide foreshadowing for tactics Kongming would execute further into the show. The tricks used for Eiko's sake are all variants of strategies employed during Kongming's past. Through explaining the ingenious context behind why these plans were carried out, "Koumei" links past & present and compounds the satisfaction already gained by seeing Kongming's current course of action. "Koumei's" inspired writing is evident elsewhere too. Kongming's frequent quotes of wisdom help guide supporting characters along their respective plotlines, making standard TV show pep talks stand out in their own distinct way. Plus, each episode of "Koumei" begins with an opening monologue about renowned Chinese war anecdotes that are purposefully chosen to form parallels with our characters in the present. Finally, the show chooses not to glorify the past whenever appropriate, in having Kongming eagerly take on a new lease of life in an era slightly closer to the peace he seeks. This constant interplay between present and past contexts makes the latter feel necessary. Making this niche interest such an essential component of the story is quite the gamble, and one that pays off in the show's favor. Its identity is so passionately rooted in this culture that I can't imagine the series turning out any other way! "Koumei" uses its opportunities to demonstrate detail, heart and authenticity.

Chain stratagems (連環計)
--- In important matters, one should use several stratagems applied simultaneously after another as in a chain of stratagems.


Having already seen a few key strategies come into a chain effect, let's take a look at the remaining tools "Koumei" has at its disposal. First up is the writing, which shines both in and in-between the 4head setpieces we've talked about. Well-timed humor makes watching this lighthearted series a breeze, while its willingness to handle key character beats more seriously is equally welcome. Yup, "Koumei" the comedy also dabbles in both heightened and grounded dramatic moments, and P.A. Works capably accommodates for all of these scenarios. Despite being quite a ways from the studio's best, they sure as heck know how to make SoLs look pretty good, with some shrewd production alongside vibrant color choices. And finally, the game plan of "Koumei" would be irreconcilably incomplete without its secret weapon - music.

Victory comes only with risk.


When it comes to anime, music very much qualifies as one such gambit. I personally believe that it's challenging to bring out the strengths of music whenever it's employed in different mediums (with the obvious exception of musicals.) It requires an expertise outside of typical anime production to craft great songs that can potentially stand independently from the series they're featured in. Furthermore, making music a prominent fixture in the plot can introduce one big concern. Anime series such as Takt op, Carole & Tuesday and VIVY are all awkward attempts at mythologising music, as if it's some superpower that blows up monsters or resolves racial divides. In trying to exaggerate music as a tangible force for good, these screenplays actually wind up belittling the simple, yet unmistakable, effect that the medium has on people. But even with all these unfavorable odds in mind, the skeptic in me still finds himself conceding that "Koumei's" use of music is authentic. Naturally, the tunes themselves are fire. Some mad genius took a sleazy Hungarian club song from the mid-2000s and turned it into the grooviest OP of the season (that opening flute sample is outright FLAMES). Real-life local pop star 96Neko was brought on to perform several times within the show, with both acoustic and EDM-infused tracks frequently making the rounds on social media while the show was still airing. And who could forget that 15-minute rap cypher contest, which saw "Koumei" out-freestyle the Kaguya episode that aired that same week? Probably the only concession here is that the thin OST often reuses songs, but that feels like a nitpick given how well music is implemented in a thematic sense. Rather than apply contrived plot mechanics to make music out to be something it's not, "Koumei" steers clear of this temptation and instead puts an earnest spotlight on the artform. I'm aware Kongming mentions his "Plan for Peace Throughout the World," but within the context of "Koumei" it doesn't sound like he's literally dead-set on fixing social issues. Kongming comes across as simply wanting to share the special feeling Eiko gifted him upon hearing her sing for the first time. In order to attain this goal, Eiko and the artists around her all have to put in the work. "Koumei" takes time to have its musicians reinforce their personal voice, identity and passion. This process also reveals the frank realities of the music scene, as characters contemplate the differences between a passionate career and one that involves "selling-out". The show questions whether it is right to sacrifice artistic control in exchange for a sustainable career that involves livelihoods beyond the individual artist's. And yes, "Koumei" does this all while incorporating elements from Chinese history. Music and Chinese tactics - it takes a deep love for both of these seemingly incompatible fields to create a passion project so richly authentic. What a decisive victory, ya' boy loves "Ya' Boy".

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If you happen to like my verbose rants, feel free to check out my other reviews for seasons past and present. Happy Holidays, and expect more ill-informed takes, from me to you. Peace~

Tl;Dr:

"The Orbital Children" is a high-stakes adventure among the stars. A refreshing take on the disaster movie, TOC regularly introduces well-crafted conflicts that'll be sure to impress avid sci-fi fans. A compelling series of ethical dilemmas accompany our cast's survival story, which ramps up into a jaw-dropping climax of ear-grinningly epic proportions. TOC is occasionally hampered by unnatural patches of comedy and drops in pacing, but brilliant worldbuilding makes this series an immersive binge. 8/10~

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"Mindblown." It's a sentiment that you'll likely be left with upon watching "The Orbital Children" (TOC). This brisk, 6-episode Netflix ONA is very much "Mindblown: The Anime." And no, I'm not ... just referring to its tight mystery-thriller sci-fi script. While it relentlessly piles on ingenious worldbuilding and ethical dilemmas, TOC ultimately asks its audience to confront the value in confusion. What do we really know about the world around us? How do we face problems we can't solve individually? Is it worth seeking out the unknown? Take a chance on me and find out, as we take a spoiler-free leap into TOC. 3… 2… 1… we have liftoff!

"Houston, we have a problem." In the year 2045, the manned space station and hotel, "Anshin," prepares a landing party for Earthling tourists sponsored by Deegle (any likeness shared with Google is purely coincidental.) Brilliant hacker Touya Sagami, one of the two remaining children born on the moon, is deeply resentful of the "idiot Earthers" he's hosting. That being said, just one party pooper isn't enough to dampen the excitement of the station's visitors: Taiyo, Mina and Hiroshi. But with a surprise comet en route to damage both the shuttle and the world below, perhaps it's no time to be "anshin-shiro" ("relieved" in Japanese.) Touya and the other personnel on-board have to do a lot more than just survive the cosmic onslaught. Uncovering the mystery surrounding the incoming comet will reveal a complex array of problems that puts the entire world at stake.

TOC showcases great worldbuilding in outer space. Series creator Mitsuo Iso's vision of what the future will look like is equal parts fascinating and sobering. Throughout the course of this tightly-written survival story, viewers will be treated to a well thought-out futuristic setting. Technological devices within the show take full advantage of the whimsy sci-fi allows, while keeping things intuitive and easy to understand. Presumably to the delight of "VIVY" fans, artificial intelligence is explored in great detail, raising interesting considerations regarding how society should integrate with such powerful technology. The introduction of space travel offers more than mere set dressing, and opens up a recurring ethical dilemma about Earth's overpopulation & natural resource crises. Having recently sat through the sheer sci-fi stupidity of "BELLE", I was thoroughly impressed by how much better TOC fared in terms of establishing conflict and discussing what the future might hold. Also noteworthy is how TOC handles its characters. Despite shocking reveals and shifts in alliances, none of the cast members can be pinned down as a traditional "villain," and everyone is doing their utmost to deal with the cataclysmic chaos at hand. Even though the characters themselves scarcely feel all that developed personality-wise, they certainly get the job done through compelling personal motivations. Aside from some ill-timed comedy and poor patches of pacing, TOC makes for an engrossing binge, with a lean runtime of just over 3 hours. Production +h's debut studio effort does a capable job, thanks to capable 2D animation and compositing. However, with visual eye-candy comes visible confusion; TOC is not an easy show to grasp at times. The series may prove demanding due to its exposition of sci-fi and mystery elements. Furthermore, the frequent switching between narrative perspectives makes the task of keeping up with the show's heavy exposition all the more cumbersome. TOC might feel overwhelming with its themes and subject matter, but not without good reason. The series can be boiled down to an uplifting core message, which I'll now explain by bringing up the complex perspective of our MC, Touya.

Space may as well be the final frontier, because it's all Touya has left. Remember what I said about MC hating humans? Well, we're about to get into why. In the past, human attempts at starting a moon colony would be thwarted due to the deaths of infants born there. This "moon sickness" throws off hormone development in the young, and needed treatment in the form of brain implants designed by the smartest A.I. of its time, Seven. These A.I. limiters would control hormone balance until adolescence, thereby allowing moon children to grow up. Unfortunately, the brain limiters could not be deactivated after childhood, meaning that the moon sickness these kids avoided as infants would kill them as teenagers. The only being capable of fixing this design flaw, Seven, was discarded for surpassing human control. No A.I. since reached Seven's massive computational capacity, due to rigid regulations on A.I. power. Plans to build civilization on the moon were eventually scrapped, dooming Touya to a deadly fate. From Touya's POV, the Earthers made him bear this curse, with no means of a cure, now that the A.I.s got nerfed. But our boy was born on the friggin' moon; he's not giving up that easily. In response to the world threatening his existence, Touya's goal is to hack away all of his A.I. drone's limiters and usher in the second coming of Seven. To Touya, this is the only way of saving him and Konoha, the only other moon child on-board the "Anshin."

Now, let's take a step back from this lunar perspective and see the other side of the ethical coin. In stark contrast to the rebel hacker from outer space, the law-abiding UN agent Taiyo could not disagree more with Touya's worldview. Seven's deactivation followed after the out-of-control A.I. instigated several global incidents that cost hundreds of lives. A rogue A.I. mega-computer is the last thing governments would want to deal with, given the other problems on their plate. Overpopulation is threatening the end of the human race. Having lost control of the situation once before, the UN is intent on ensuring that all variables are kept in check, as the world assesses her dire options. Taiyo wouldn't dare risk causing another Seven Saga to occur, especially with a situation so critical. Then again, perhaps Touya's gambit of fully trusting A.I. may be the best solution, which both saves the world and repairs the malfunctioning implants. Touya's and Taiyo's ideologies are at polar opposites, and their respective resolves are iron-clad, even if both are trying to do the right thing. Is technology the threat or the solution? To further complicate things, maybe the best move is the utilitarian one, where the imminent comet is allowed to wipe out a third of the world's population, thereby preserving man's existence. What's the right answer?

Confused? Same. In the beginning of this review, I said that this show is going for the "mindblown" effect. Hopefully I've demonstrated how the show lives up to that description, and we haven't even touched on TOC's esoteric stances on ethics, religion or predeterminism. The unorthodox climax of Episode 6 consists of quite possibly the most mind-boggling conceptual jargon I've ever heard, a plethora of which flew over my head like shooting stars. But as I said before, TOC also shows us the meaning in confusion. Confusion is possibly the most effective motivator we have for thinking. After all, if we never challenge ourselves with difficult questions, we'll never be motivated to develop our way of thinking or arrive at valuable answers. In TOC, a concept mentioned prominently is that of "the frame," or "the cradle." These terms can be read as "perspective." From young, each of us grew up seeing the world from our personal, unique frames. But just like peering out of a space shuttle window to look down on Earth, we eventually come to realize how small we are in the grand scheme of things, and how many other frames exist - we get "mindblown." Much like the orbiting children, we need to realize that our perspective isn't always enough to solve the most challenging of problems. The layered predicament facing the crew of the "Anshin" can only be solved through the integration of frames and open-minded collaboration. Touya needed to show empathy for the Earthers that he once considered ideological enemies. Taiyo needed to set aside his unflinching faith in the law, so that his friends could survive. Yes, confusion is inevitable, and we tend to fear what we do not understand. But the uncertainty could hold all the answers; sometimes you won't know unless you take a leap of faith and escape your frame. It's a great message for TOC to conclude on, as the show relishes the unknown opportunities of humanity's future amidst eminent problems. Watching Touya and the crew escape the frame of conventional thinking is a thrilling, cathartic experience - one that I'm hoping you try out for yourself.

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Phew, that was a fun trip. Thanks for joining me! If you happen to like my verbose rants, feel free to check out my other reviews for seasons past and present, peace~

Tl;Dr:

"Blue Period" explores what it means to express yourself. Our protagonist's journey of self-discovery and self-expression makes for one of the most compelling character dramas around this season. Mangaka Yamaguchi's personal touches offer a nuanced landscape of both the struggles artists face today and their resilient love for their craft. Sketchy production impairs the anime's ability to draw viewers in, yet the show still manages to paint a rather convincing picture. BP's biggest fault lies in its inability to cater to the existing manga fanbase, but its earnest passion still rings through for newcomers. 7/10~

***

Beauty lies in the eye of the Beholder, and the way ... us beholders perceive beauty will vary from person-to-person. It's this subjectivity in tastes that gives art its special meaning. So it's kinda poetic that a story all about art would turn out so divisive among those who watched it. The anime adaptation "Blue Period" (BP) has had people talking for less-than-ideal reasons. Extreme reactions between fans and skeptics can make it difficult for newcomers to decide if this anime is for them. This is because the anime commits specific faults that largely alienate those who have already enjoyed the original manga, and studio Seven Arcs' deserves plenty of criticism for how this material was handled. But let's resist the urge to paint with broad strokes here; despite its weaknesses, BP still manages to retain the core strengths of its source, and offers a valuable gateway experience for the uninitiated to appreciate. To anyone struggling with mixed feedback surrounding BP, I hope to offer an open-minded second opinion on whether or not to give this show a shot. This article will feature a usual breakdown of the story, as well as my honest thoughts on Seven Arcs' efforts when compared with its source material. I'm not here to endorse one medium over the other. My only goal is to endorse a story well-told in either form. And if there's one thing both manga enthusiasts and anime-only fans can agree on, it's this: BP is beautiful. Let's paint a holistic, spoiler-free picture of why BP deserves your time.

The arts can't be perceived in black and white. Well, unless it's in monochrome, of course. It's common to generalize this field as one where stoner artists get praised by rich people for putting together silly sculptures and drawings devoid of meaning. Hyperbole aside, the stigma surrounding the arts is very real. Some revere the arts as a cultural necessity, others see it as a means of exploring themselves creatively. But people typically look down on the arts as a pointless career path, and this is a perspective shared by the main character of this tale. Yatora Yaguchi is a teen who has got it all figured out. He's quite the enigma when we first get to know him: a second-year with a delinquent's demeanor and a star student's grades. As it turns out, his crooked smile is part of a carefully-crafted prodigious persona that masks his hard work and effort. The driven Yaguchi takes pride in meeting the expectations of those around him and finding success in "real life." With an academic record on-track to securing placements in the country's top universities, there's no room for the illogical distractions that art presents.

But damn, if that angelic portrait isn't the most captivating thing he's ever seen.

Stumbling upon a beautiful piece in the Arts Clubroom, Yaguchi confronts what it means to create art. As his teacher Saeki-sensei puts it, the visual arts is spoken in a language without words, communicating truths unique to each artist. All his life, Yaguchi had convinced himself to seek success in school and social circles, but only because the world told him these things held value. Rather than fit in the "real" world, art offers Yaguchi the opportunity to create his own world. To tell his truth, to have his creations touch the lives of other people, to paint a Shibuya skyline, drenched in blue. Art is more than the physical pieces contained inside museum walls; it's passion, something that's been sorely missing from Yaguchi's joyless life.

Yaguchi's initial apprehension towards the arts comes from the overwhelming uncertainty of what lies ahead. Occupation in the arts is undervalued, and career prospects are dim. Artists fight tooth-and-nail in a competitive landscape to keep on doing what they love. Yaguchi is about to jump right in the thick of it, with his eyes set on his only viable path: the Tokyo University of the Arts, a public school with a 0.5% acceptance rate. Experiences in the Arts Club and prep school reveal a frightening catch-up game between our "prodigy" and his peers. He may have mastered what it means to be a conformist, but the arts is a place where individualism matters above all else. Instead of meeting expectations set by others, Yaguchi is now tasked with creating those expectations for himself. For the first time in his life, he perceives himself as a Salieri to the Mozarts of the art world ‒ a talentless amateur when compared against creative geniuses. There's little easygoing with such a tremendous challenge, but Yaguchi has never felt more alive.

BP exudes love for the arts, and that same passion rubs off on its audience. This engaging effect is all thanks to mangaka Tsubasa Yamaguchi's laborious attention to detail. Stemming from both real-life interviews and Yamaguchi's time in Tokyo University of the Arts, Yaguchi's struggle as an upcoming artist feels earnest and intensely personal. His creative process, concerns, and insecurities are laid intimately bare. BP all but drags us into Yaguchi's headspace, which offers an interesting blank canvas for exploring what it means to grow as an artist. His sporadic spurts of self-confidence and artistic output can feel like he's regressing at times, but these flaws rarely come across as contrived. Rather, his struggles and encounters with dead ends make Yaguchi feel human. BP's character drama does have some corny moments, but otherwise depicts this crucial period in Yaguchi's life with a gripping air of maturity. Alongside a compelling protagonist are other inclusions that aid in connecting with this artistic journey. BP is remarkable in how it makes most viewers GET art, even without prior knowledge on the subject. "Art within art" is key to the series' success. In-universe artworks derived from both fiction and real history act as markers for Yaguchi's progress, by communicating the qualities associated with good and bad art respectively. Each painting contains observable details in composition and quickly condenses important information ‒ a picture is worth a thousand words, after all. These artworks in BP brings the audience up to speed on topics Yaguchi studies; such as lighting, form, texture and perspective. And despite the textbook jargon, BP's "lessons" rarely feel dry or difficult, but rather come across as intuitive observations from a real person who was once in our uninitiated shoes. Through learning the technicalities and approaches involved with the production of art, viewers cultivate a deeper appreciation for the creations and struggles Yaguchi endures. The arts homage doesn't end there; BP is brimming with frequent factoids about art and references to famous pieces from the past. Now, there is a small downside when factoring in BP's side characters; the spotlight on Yaguchi often means that many often take a backseat. Still, I believe the series does a fantastic job at contextualizing the journeys of other artists. For instance, the talented Kuwana is in constant fear of failure, with her tenacity wearing thin under the weight of extreme expectations and the guilt of seeing the end of fellow artists' dreams. Probably the strongest showings from this secondary cast goes to Ryuuji. After an introduction which seemed to have got off the wrong foot, Ryuuji quickly came to steal the show through their earnest search for self-identity.

As someone who has recently done some mild studies in the arts, I have nothing but glowing praise for how BP tackles such niche talking points in an inclusive way. With the exception of last season's sleeper "Kageki Shoujo", I haven't encountered any other anime that portrays such an infectious passion for the arts. Unfortunately, this appeal is far from universal, with regards to this anime adaptation at least. This is often the case with many adaptations, but more so with BP. The significant overlap between detractors of this TV series and those who have enjoyed the manga beforehand is worrisome and deserves a closer look. So without further ado, it's time to ask the age old question:

"Is the manga bett-" Yes. 100%.

I don't think there's any dispute over the notion that the manga is built different. One of the first differences you'd notice between manga and anime are the different stylistic approaches. The manga uses shading, linework and framing in a distinct way. BP's anime unfaithful visuals feel far flatter and bland by comparison, and its attempts at emulating the source's inspired use of imaginative sequences feel like phoned-in visual gimmicks. Another issue worth pointing out involves what was left on the cutting-room floor. BP's anime is paced really quickly, and starts out adapting ~100 pages per episode. The abridged result can feel more repetitive at times, and Yaguchi's huge screentime sometimes feels tiresome. Furthermore, the anime is at a disadvantage when it comes to explaining art concepts. From what I've discovered, audiences tend to have a better time keeping up with the manga, which has more room to present infographics and visual representations of this technical material. Finally, the observation that hurts the most is the claim that the anime is "emotionless." Manga readers do have a point; Yamaguchi's superb panels are more emotive and intense than what the anime can provide. And we've yet to mention BP's mediocre production quality, which often results in clunky frames and skewed facial expressions. So yes, manga is better… but that goes without saying for countless adaptations. So what's the problem? Well, word around the community is that BP is a bad anime, and this is a stance I wholly disagree with. Yes, BP's visuals are certainly conventional, but this is an approach that complements the more down-to-earth character drama the series is strong for. Yes, the anime starts out with very fast pacing, but Yaguchi's development in these first chapters is surprisingly on-par with the "rushed'' character changes in BP's first episodes. Yes, there is cut content involving artistic processes and Yaguchi's high school classmates (who show up as afterthoughts,) but the core of the story remains intact; Yaguchi's growth as an artist still takes centerstage to compelling effect. Yes, the anime could be seen as "emotionless," but mostly in comparison to the manga. Shift the playing field, and you just might realize that despite the average-at-best visuals and abridged content, Yamaguchi's unmistakable passion for the arts still resonates to a greater degree than most SoLs out there. If you're a seasonal binger who confuses "Blue Period" with "Blue Lock", what this adaptation offers aesthetically shouldn't be foreign to you. Aside from some scenes in the first episode (and that's me being generous,) there's nothing particularly eye-catching, but there isn't anything offensively bad either. While not particularly pretty, BP makes up for those deficiencies through function; the show is still very good at educating audiences about the arts visually. Lastly, the solid voice acting performances, the interesting OST (+ a banger OP by Omionotake,) and the unstoppable strengths of the source material are all well-worth the SoL price of admission.

What I think has happened here is that attributes deemed as core to the Blue Period experience ‒ the qualities that drew readers to the franchise in the first place ‒ are heavily obscured due to production and time constraints. BP has nothing to offer to existing fans of the IP, and that's a damn shame. Fans expecting BP's adaptation to be of a higher standard than other anime point towards the admirable outpouring of love for the source material, and it's painful to not see that love from readers being reciprocated by this show. That being said, I don't think discourse surrounding the anime should downplay its merits, especially when it still manages to surpass many of its contemporaries airing today. The production committee and Seven Arcs can be scrutinized pretty cynically for their choices here, but I can't really care when the newcomer experience turned out so strong. If you had to pick only one form to check out, go with the manga. But for those with more time on their hands, don't be deterred by the bad press BP has been getting. Don't take my nerd word for it either, go give it a watch; that way you just might be able to experience a great story twice (stonks.) If the show hasn't won you over by the third episode, maybe then consider switching to the manga. Much like how Yaguchi took a chance on the arts and didn't let go, I hope you'll join me in finding an unexpected love for this show.

***

Many thanks for joining me on this read. Living vicariously through Yaguchi's experiences did quell the arts nerd in me. I sure as hell am gonna miss this series. If you happen to like my verbose rants, feel free to check out my other reviews for seasons past and present, peace~

Tl;Dr:

"Miss Kobayashi's Dragon Maid" has always been about experiencing new things, and it's only fitting that S2 follows suit. In its absence the show we know and love has become bolder, tackling familiar SoL topics with a measure of character growth that's sure to resonate with viewers. S2 isn't afraid to stray from its sketch show formula, introducing flashbacks which showcase how much our dragons have grown. Of course, the series' trademark comedy makes a welcome return, embracing innocence and community with a leisurely atmosphere. Hilarious and wholesome in equal measure, "Dragon Maid" is back, and better than ever. 8/10~

***

Was I praying for a second ... season of "Miss Kobayashi's Dragon Maid"? Nah.


Look. Before you break out the pitchforks, please believe that this is coming from a fan who adored S1. For all the wholesome happiness "Dragon Maid" (DM for short) doled out back in 2017, I wasn't exactly clamoring for a sequel. Unlike countless one-season wonders that are crying for an anime follow-up to this day, DM didn't strike my skeptic self as the type of show that would either benefit from a continuation or significantly build upon the status quo.

Oh, how wrong I was.

Having completed this series' spectacular sophomore outing, I'm pleased to report that it's a worthy instalment for the franchise. S2 came not only with the realization of just how much I've missed DM, but also with surprising improvements. This sequel is one for both the skeptics and those dearly in need for some fun this anime season. Let's come together and discover what "maid" this season so dang special.

The dragon gang's all here, as if they'd never left. The series premiere sets us right on-track with one of the funniest meta sketches yet, as everyone's favorite maid^ Lady Tohru finds herself taking her services to a Japanese maid café! The familiar fun doesn't stop there, with the rest of the cast in full swing. Kanna continues to redefine cuteness with her many playful childhood adventures, often accompanied by a lovestruck Saikawa. Meanwhile in the working world, Elma the sweet-tooth learns more and more about the worklife crunch of a middle class office worker. Takiya helps with her taxing load as a reliable colleague by day, before grinding out MMORPGs as a full-blown otaku by night, alongside the sullen NEET Fafnir. And lest we forget, our flirtatious Lucoa is still doing all sorts of unspeakable things to her beloved Shouta-kun, an eager mage-in-training. Finally, at the beating heart of this lovable community is Miss Kobayashi, a kindhearted dragon ambassador with an achy back and a knack for reaching out to her friends in need. Her affinity for booze is only matched by that of sharing thoughtful advice as a mentor for our scaly pals.

Things seemed the same as they have ever been. S2 simply maintaining the series' trademarks of great comedy and wholesome joy would already have been cause for celebration. If S2's episodes were just Tohru trying to feed Kobayashi her tail for 20 minutes, you can bet that I'd still be happy to laugh along each week. The lively, likable goofballs of DM had won me over long ago, so just watching their daily lives play out would have been enough to satisfy my SoL cravings. But to my surprise, S2 seemed intent on taking its entertaining formula to new heights. Take, for example, the introduction of a brand new cast member: the fiery Chaos Dragon Ilulu. Her backstory is sobering stuff, and her arrival draws some parallels to how Tohru's second life on earth got off the ground. The developments didn't stop there, as DM continued to spread its wings in new directions. I found myself taken aback by how much of S2 built upon the simple gags and sketches I'd grown accustomed to. S2 offers a great deal of thoughtful character maturity hand-in-hand with hilarious childlike shenanigans. In order to explain where DM's growth comes from, we need to go back to the roots of this series' simple success.

DM celebrates the fun of discovery and unity. S1 achieves this goal through the charming interactions between dragons and humans. For eons, these ditzy dragons have observed our human world from a distance. Now that they're finally able to experience our lives firsthand, the dragons embrace our mundane day-to-day activities with excitement and curiosity. Most of S1 is dedicated to these dysfunctional dragons settling into their new lives. The comedy and cuteness that ensues from our dragons' hijinks stems from them setting aside their differences. Getting together in harmony can be a wonderful exchange, allowing all from different walks of life to learn new things and foster new bonds. DM's many moe elements and comfy vibes further demonstrate how fun and rewarding this cultural experience can be. This solid, sweet foundation can still be seen and enjoyed throughout S2. However, this sequel doesn't shy away from broadening its horizons in unexpected ways.

S2 shifts focus from the dragons' pleasant present experiences to their lives in the past. Shocking truths and revelatory origins of our friends come to light, through various flashbacks that deviate from DM's typical tone and fluff. From these glimpses into the distant past, we're introduced to unfamiliar versions of our fire-breathing friends. Viewers will get a glimpse of what it's like to be a dragon, and where their selfish way of life differs from ours. At the same time, these origin stories tell us that maybe Tohru and the gang haven't changed that much at all. Perhaps they've always sought to see the world in a new light - to be kind, to be happy, to be loved. Perhaps the human world was a gateway to finally meeting those desires.

Here on Earth, a second shot at life presents our dragons with opportunities not possible in their previous realm. Before, these mythical creatures were content with isolation and chose to avoid the trivial activities of lesser beings. Now, having kept their horns hidden, our friends can fully explore what it means to be a part of a community, with shared struggles and relationships. Finally, these age-old beings can embrace simple innocence, and find all kinds of fun with friends and loved ones. For the first time, our dragons get to learn the meaning of selflessness, and how to act for the wellbeing of others. And let's not forget Kobayashi's end of things as well, as she muses over her own new life as a role model (and love interest) for our dragons. S2 portrays these brief arcs brilliantly, in ways that are both hilarious and heartwarming. Viewers get to live vicariously through the wholesome antics of the dragons, in large part thanks to Kyoto Animation's immaculate attention to detail. Seriously, they've outdone themselves once more with this one. There's no reason why a Slice-of-Life show should wind up being a legitimate contender for prettiest anime of the year, let alone contain stunning action cuts that put proper shounen seasonals to shame in the visual department^^. This season is sensational; probably the only downside I can propose is that of sequels in general. DM is still going to have moments that fall into "moe -blob" territory, and risqué jokes featuring Saikawa and Lucoa are still bound to raise a few eyebrows. This sequel is a sizable step-up over what came before, but shouldn't be expected to change the minds of those who dislike the first season. But as for the rest of us existing DM enjoyers, we can rest easy in knowing that S2 has deepened its already-enriching experience, on both a thematic and emotional level. Truly, a must-see sequel.

***

STRAY RAMBLINGS (SPOILERS):
- ^Sorry, Georgie. You did scare the shit out of me when you started showing up at several places at once.
- ^^The fantastic animation quality is made way more impressive given that many key staff members were youngsters. Due to recent events, KyoAni being shortstaffed on talent was a serious possibility. Putting their trust in youngsters for some truly phenomenal cuts and visual choices just makes me love this awesome studio that much more. This production model bodes really well, and I'm gonna keep my eyes peeled for the kind of sakuga talent that'll bloom from this youth development in the years to come.
- THE. KANNA. EPISODE. IN. NYC. GAVE. ME. DIABETES.
- I think Elma's workplace story in Ep 9 doesn't get enough credit. I'm really surprised at how the sketch played out, given how unassuming Kobayashi's office culture must have been to a local audience. The things Elma were stressing over are practically non-issues over in Japan. Work culture is known to prioritise the company over the individual, to the point where workers feel bad about using mandatory annual leave. Plus, Elma's "lobbying" for workplace reform marks the rare occasion where the dragons challenge the human way of doing things. It was a pretty profound statement really, all while being a lighthearted watch at the expense of Elma's tremendous efforts.
- S1's OP & ED are the better of the franchise's pair IMO, but I'm not complaining about what we got here. fhána's hook is unstoppable. SING ALONG, PAPARAPAPA...
- BEST GIRL: Strictly in a waifu sense, Lucoa can get it. But how can I not shoutout Kanna for being so damn adorable from start to finish? AHHHHH~

***

Thanks for joining me on this quick read! Now if you'll excuse me, watching Elma eat candies has got me craving for dessert. As if this show wasn't sweet enough as is! If you happen to like my verbose rants, feel free to check out my other reviews for seasons past and present, peace~

Have you heard of "fake stories within a story?"

Take the "Home Alone" franchise, for example. Kevin McCallister spends his Winter holiday evenings watching the noir movie "Angels with Filthy Souls." The fake film and its fake sequel are really funny mafia parodies; despite not originating from an actual movie, "Merry Christmas, ya' filthy animal" is still an incredibly iconic movie line. Both of these sketches are short and sweet, with each sitting at under 2 minutes. I call them fake stories because they're clearly not meant to hold any narrative importance. The same goes for a sappy romance manga titled "Go Sweet" that Shirogane and ... the gang read in "Love is War." All we know about the manga is that it resembles a bunch of common shoujo plotlines, but to our characters it's a bestselling series that made them tear up despite its generic tropes. It's just a fake story that allows the real story to create some hilarious parodies, like when the author reimagined "Love is War" as a melodramatic shoujo ai. Much like our world, it makes sense that fictional characters also have their own in-universe version of television and books. These are usually jokes built on generalizations of the genre being made fun of, be it grimy crime dramas or sappy YA romance. I'm fond of fake stories, but mostly because they're fake. They aren't meant to be taken seriously, nor do they overstay their welcome.

"Kanojo no Kanojo" is what happens when one of these shitposts gets dragged out for a miserable 12 episodes.

This piece is spoiler-free, Tl;Dr below.

Naoya gets the girl. Equal parts daft and earnest, he's been pursuing his childhood friend Saki for years. In the first year of high school she accepts his feelings, and the two start out on their adorkable relationship. He's still as infatuated with his longtime crush as he's ever been, she's smitten by his sheer earnestness. The pair share a funny chemistry, thanks to comic misunderstandings and exaggerated declarations of love for one another. It'd be fun to see a story of these getting worked-up over every tiny thing in their blossoming relationship.

Kanokano is not that story. Heck, just calling it a story at all would be a stretch.

Out of the blue, a blue-haired first-year decides to ask MC out, in typical anime fashion. A girl whom this guy has no prior knowledge of just shoots her shot. Sure, she worked up the courage to confess for several months, but what would he know. He's content and attached to his first and only love.

Naturally, he says yes.

What follows is an absolute trainwreck. Rather than find himself having to choose between one girl and the other, MC decides to date both in a two-timing relationship. And as proof of his "TRuE l0Ve," he tells an enraged Saki of his horny intentions to start a high-school harem. That's right, he cucks both of his girlfriends openly. Now, there's nothing wrong with adults consenting to an open courtship with more than two people, but nothing about this weak-willed excuse of a MC screams "loyal" or "mature," given how quickly he fell head-over-heels over a stranger he just met. And to top it all off, the threesome moves into MC's home to live happily ever after, unsupervised and underage. Kanokano is all about the resultant polygamy, and the sheer idiocy that allowed it to occur.

Before discussing this abominable harem, we must direct our attention to our Harem Lord. In the past I've been harsh towards male protagonists with zero personality, but I'd prefer any number of them over this mess of a character. Naoya Mukai is quite easily the worst lead character in all of fiction; or, at the very least, the worst protagonist I've had the displeasure of coming across thus far. I really wish I was merely drumming up exaggerated anger for the sake of publishing a heated review, but he is genuinely revolting. At first glance, Naoya appears to be a perpetual loser who demonstrates his undying love with big romantic gestures. But really, the guy is a toxic manipulator who constantly gaslights those around him in order to fulfill his horny desires. He comically misunderstands the babes surrounding him and twists their words, with an idiocy so unfiltered that girls end up second-guessing themselves. Naoya is what happens when you cross the Machiavellian tendencies of a Gen-Z Light Yagami with the selfish, pathetic guise of ToG's Rachel. Self-deprecation is often seen as a weakness or an undesirable flaw, yet Naoya leans into his worthlessness so hard that it miraculously becomes a strength. He shamelessly proclaims he's a two-timing scum, but only because he loves his girls both equally and endlessly. Suddenly, his unfaithfulness is seen as a prized rarity, and every female above the age of consent would throw themselves at him to be the sole recipient of such undying love. But surely sharing a chode amongst so many impressionable teenage girls is a "hard" task, in more ways than one! Getting into Naoya's bandwagon (and pants) becomes more difficult as the series progresses, because he needs to "stay faithful" to the girls already attached to him. However, MC playing hard-to-get just ends up being an excuse for entertaining the humiliating advances of the chicks around him. Forget any notion of this series navigating a taboo polygamous relationship in Japan; Kanokano is a show about a cult - one where a serial manipulator unabashedly tricks the world into falling in love with him.

The cult of Kanokano is repulsive, but it's hard to feel sorry for the victims dumb enough to fall for MC's schemes. As an abridged mockery of the harem trope, each girl is defined primarily by their obsessive desires to win MC's heart. Character traits barely distinguish one empty husk of a character from the next; these idiots may as well be interchangeable target practice for Cupid's arrows. No one here is really in love with Naoya; rather, they crave only the idea of being the only one loved by him. Each girl steps outside of their comfort zones to "out-love" everyone else by catering to MC's fetishes. The end result? A clown fiesta of antics and grand gestures that rapidly decline in shock value. Forgoing sleep to profess love, camping in the cold outdoors as a pick-up strategy, bribing lovers with "gacha" rolls, getting aroused from NTR, putting on roleplay clothes in order to sleep with MC, and stripping down said clothes in order to sleep with MC - you get the perverted picture. It's the kind of immature bullshittery that'll make any reasonable soul call for a parent, if not for the fact that these parents are just as irredeemably shit as their insane offspring. Kanokano paints a nightmarish dystopia where society has regressed to the age of Neanderthals. Fathers and mothers don't just allow their little girls to play House with MC - they encourage it, praying that their respective child will be the one to claim Naoya's heart. This is a sick world so primitive that down-bad daughters attempt to make Sir Nice Guy shoot babies into them, while their irresponsible parents cheer their underage children on.

With a fervor not seen since Thanos' quest to assemble the Infinity Gauntlet, the nice guy Naoya hunts for babes to add to his trash waifu depository, with each new insipid addition more helplessly inept than the next. Redhead tsun tiddies. Loli-bait homemaker tiddies. Gyaru e-girl streamer tiddies. The list may as well stretch on and on, in turn tearing the fabric of realism as we know it. But let's not worry about fiction not being believable, that's not even the worst of our problems. The biggest issue with Kanokano is that it obliterates the very idea of love. This harem gives up dignity in exchange for dick, throwing themselves at a love as commonplace as it is disingenuous. Naoya could love anyone, which is why love loses all meaning. The goal of sharing an inseparable bond with a significant other gets utterly destroyed with the addition of countless "others." Love disappears, because love means nothing when it's freely handed out to every girl and my left foot. Romance is dead, and Kanokano has dealt the finishing blow.

This rancid experience does come with its bright spots. Production-wise, Kanokano benefits from a rather pleasant job. It's baffling that such a travesty would follow an otherwise successful streak for Tezuka Productions, a studio fresh off works such as "Dororo" and 2020's phenomenal "Adachi to Shimamura." The latter show's chief director and head director bring the same quirky visual identity to Kanokano, with a comic-book aesthetic and pastel colors. The series is also capable of nailing comedic timing and visual jokes that embrace the absurdity on-screen. Voice actors are the liferaft for the sinking 'ship(s) of Kanokano. Lines are delivered (and often shouted) with the crazy conviction the script requires. These VAs absolutely sell their lines and do their utmost to elevate some incomprehensibly crap material. For all the garbage persistent throughout the series, Kanokano at least executes its ideas relatively well. But if you ask me, it's a bit like polishing a turd.

If you made it this far, you may be wondering what my deal is. Kanokano is clearly a show that isn't meant to be taken seriously, so penning a roast about this steaming dumpster fire must be pointless. Well, if you're looking for an exercise in futility, look no further than Kanokano itself. The show is doing a parody, by taking the tropes associated with the harem formula and expanding on them, arriving in uncharted territory in the process. Kanokano is technically innovating here, but perhaps there is a good reason for why writers don't take things this ridiculously far. By pushing the harem trope to its extreme limits, Kanokano sacrifices all storytelling potential. It's nigh-impossible to see the show as anything other than an overly-long joke, because the show is so deliberately designed to be just that. Kanokano is not capable of grasping its own exercise in futility, because it's got its hands full groping its countless breasts instead. Let's not kid ourselves, no one here is watching Kanokano because of a well-developed cast or cohesive narrative. No, we watch Kanokano to laugh at how stupid it is. And honestly, that's really sad. Kanokano just isn't the kind of parody worth a full 5-hour runtime. All this colossal waste of space can offer are mind-numbing shenanigans. All this tasteless travesty can achieve is to rinse-and-repeat its toxic cycle of gaslighting and self-victimising. All this horrible harem can do is drown the audience out with noisy, over-the-top declarations of love that are as grand as they are empty. All this stupid series can muster is the vandalization of human romance, by stripping the concept of all importance. Much like the "love" the Kanokano cult share, all this story can amount to can be summed up in one word: "Fake."

Stories and entertainment have always been things that I enjoy. I've appreciated some really complex, profound works that have stuck with me. But I'm not gonna sit here and pretend that I don't also treasure my fair share of simple pleasures, comedies and shitposts from time to time. Across all these pieces of media, I've always felt that these things have added to my life in some way, be it big or small. But Kanokano is the first time I've encountered a show that takes away. It's a show so dumb that I almost feel dumber just by sitting through it. If you're genuinely excited by any of the topics I've discussed so far, I won't hinder you from welcoming this chronic brain rot with open arms. Comedy is as subjective as genres get, and what failed for me might work wonders for you. My goal is simply to stay true to my personal experience and serve as a cautionary tale for those tempted to give Kanokano a fair shot. I find that the first episode kinda tells you everything you need to know, with its stupid humor and absurd execution. Feel free to try out that episode out of morbid curiosity. Who knows, Kanokano could fall squarely into "So Bad It's Good" territory.

***

BEST GIRL: Nope.

***

Thanks for reaching the end with me. This one was particularly fun to put together, as if to numb the pain from sitting through this harrowing experience. "I survived Kanokano." Now there's a neat idea for a shirt. If you happen to like my verbose rants, feel free to check out my other reviews for seasons past and present, peace~

Tl;Dr:

"Odd" is a nail-biting mystery and witty comedy, complemented with a superb cast of lively characters and a tightly-written script. The momentum of its crime thriller rarely eases up on the brakes. The brilliant writing delivers in droves, with references and social commentary keeping viewers deeply engaged. I had a pretty good idea of where "Odd" was taking me, but the many sights along the way easily rank amongst the most riveting anime you'll find all year. 8/10~

***

Welcome aboard. I hope you're seated comfortably. This one's gonna be an especially wild ride; God knows how much of a blast I had myself. It's become increasingly ... common that I find myself in the proverbial driver's seat when interpreting the various shows I consume, and my admittedly self-aggrandizing role as a serial AL ranter hasn't exactly curbed my ego either. Articulating my thoughts on the shows I've watched is a natural process that is developing alongside my love for stories. I often enjoy cracking open what any given series has to offer. In the case of "mediocre" stories, my personal findings can often leave me rather dismissive and indifferent towards what a show is attempting to achieve. Personally I don't believe that this process is egotistical; given that time is precious, we need to decide how to best invest our time into the products that yield the most enjoyment. But as you can already tell from this pretentious introduction (so sorry for this, it'll make sense in a bit,) picking apart stories in this fashion can make me feel like I've got it all figured out, as if I'm lounging on that driver's seat. My love for stories hasn't diminished, but my exposure to them has grown. I still crave that sensation of being led on by writing that stays ten steps ahead of me, and have immense respect for the incredible pieces that reinvigorate my passions. With that said, I feel like I have a good grasp about what "Odd Taxi" is all about. But that understanding hasn't stopped the show from shoving me squarely in the passenger seat and taking me along one of the wildest rides I've experienced in quite some time.
Looks like our meter's running, so we best be moving on quick. Our destination: "Odd Taxi." This journey will be spoiler-free. Aaand we're off!

"Odd" certainly lives up to the title. Our story takes place in a curious reimagining of Japan, inhabited by anthropomorphic animals that live exactly the same way humans do. It's a less-allegorical spin on "BEASTARS," with a dash of "Baccano!" A sprawling narrative is laid out before us, with tangled webs pointing to the mysterious disappearance of a girl. Someone is missing; someone is responsible. And somehow, everything is connected. A billion Yen. A nurse with secrets. A broken phone. A corrupt policeman. A monkey on Tinder. An idol trio. A Twitter fanatic. A car camera. Plotlines constantly crash into one another in unexpected ways. Each of these seemingly unrelated subplots are entertaining in their own right, offering a great deal of variety to the greater mystery at hand. Fret not if these story threads seem difficult to keep track of, because this series expertly places each calculated twist and turn. Tight story structure is essential to ensuring a narrative of such scale succeeds, and "Odd" all but guarantees that level of precision. Brief recaps help fill us in on what relevant characters know at every stage of the narrative, and objectives are clearly laid out from start-to-finish. "Odd" has one more trick to ensure that its many threads are tied together, and that answer lies in the back of a cab car.

Odd is the unique perspective of a taxi driver. The man at the wheel takes passengers to a destination, but can inadvertently wind up as a passenger themselves; it's a two-way street. Such is the case with Hiroshi Odokawa, a jaded walrus in his 40s who strikes up straight-faced chats with his various customers. Much of this show's mystery unfolds through innocuous encounters in his backseat, as clues and key story beats are seamlessly integrated into charismatic conversation. Pessimistic and perceptive, Odokawa is an entertaining and essential presence in "Odd." His wit and deadpan observations of his various passengers assist the audience in understanding the various personalities and motivations involved in "Odd's" grand plan. He's highly intelligent, steering conversations far more effectively than his Uber. As the stakes escalate with the introduction of new passengers, Odokawa is driven to find his way out of a series of dire conspiracies. Adding to the intrigue is the skeletons inside our cabby's closet. Odokawa is keeping secrets of his own, and a fantastic ensemble cast follows suit.

This series' diverse characters keeps things engaging and entertaining as our odd mystery ensues. Odokawa may be the star of this show, but "Odd's" greatest asset lies with its secondary characters. Each brings a distinctly quirky energy to "Odd." With a cast so stacked yet well-balanced, "Odd" is sure to leave an impression, regardless of who you like most. Perhaps you're enamoured by the elusive Miho Shirakawa, or just prefer monkeying-around with the mischievous Eji Kakihana. The Daimon Brothers are especially cool, and it's fun seeing these identical twins confront their differing morals. And let's not forget Yano, a crime syndicate higher-up and rap lyricist. No seriously, every one of Yano's lines are straight fire, with a series of flows that could out-bar Biggie himself (hats off to the translators for miraculously maintaining the rhyme scheme in a different language.) My personal favorites are the comedians Shibagaki and Baba. They first appear during a radio programme that Odokawa plays on-the-job, as stereo personalities yearning to catch a big break in the industry. I absolutely love how their seemingly one-off conflict recurs alongside the duo, as these unseen background celebrities suddenly show up in Odokawa's cab and even receive their own melancholic sideplot. "Odd's" eccentric approach to writing sneaks up on you, effortlessly allowing its cast to shine while progressing this complex tale. With that said, let's take a detour and explore how "Odd" brings its stellar cast to life.

Fast-paced, layered dialogue makes for an oddly-satisfying change of pace. Kazuya Konomoto appears to have honed an esoteric command over dialogue in previous works, and "Odd" showcases an absolute mastery of his craft. I'd liken his screenplay as a fascinating blend of Aaron Sorkin's rapid-fire quips and Richard Linklater's stoner musings. Much of this series is effortlessly hilarious, with great line delivery and a ton of random references. These conversations aren't merely for killing time though, as they clearly establish the vibrant personalities throughout "Odd." Chats can take unexpected turns into any number of themes. The show isn't afraid to deftly transition into world-weary commentary on social trends and art, all while maintaining characterization and offering crucial clues to solving its grand mystery.

All these odd attributes meet at the intersection of variety and suspense. "Odd's" narrative is in-depth and in-breadth. Infectious charisma and ingenious jokes are seamlessly packed into a massive overarching plot. The show's intertwining plotlines capture a swagger reminiscent of Tarantino's best works. "Odd" offers a smörgåsbord of engaging entertainment, an all-you-can-eat buffet of themes and tones. This is a show so unpredictable that it isn't afraid to bring its multifaceted narrative to a screeching halt and focus on a single character's monologue about his childhood failures and adulthood addictions. Despite all the fun, this crime thriller still knows how to drop a good "Eureka moment" and have us re-evaluate its various variety-hour plot threads. You can never quite pin down what will happen next, but you can be damn sure "Odd" delivers. It's a rollercoaster from start to electrifying finish, embracing a cartoon-y artstyle that is more versatile than it initially appears. "Odd's" OP is an absolute jam, and the sound maintains the show's overall sense of playfulness and intrigue.

***

Thanks for coming along this ride with me, be sure to leave a generous tip on your way out. If you happen to like my verbose rants, feel free to check out my other reviews for seasons past and present. Peace~

Tl;Dr:

"Higehiro" is a story packed with controversies. There are elements within the series which can spark outrage, but I feel that this series does an adequate job with what it's been given. Looking past the nasty implications behind "Higehiro's" age-gap premise reveals an earnest drama brimming with optimism. The healing process that results from Yoshida's initial criminal mistake is the show's strongest selling point, and one of the most heartwarming developments found in anime this season. Unfortunately, "Higehiro" does become hampered by inconsistency in areas of writing and direction. Still, I recommend this watch to those who can handle sensitive content; the hope "Higehiro" instills ... in its brightest moments could very well trump its upsetting flaws. 6/10~

***

Spring '21 hasn't exactly been kind towards Slice of Life aficionados. My favorite SoL series all season was technically a carry-over from last Spring; the "Kaguya-sama: Love is War" OVA only needed 20 minutes to bring me more enjoyment than any other airing seasonal. Aside from the sleeper-hit "Super Cub," we've been pretty short on unadulterated, vanilla wholesomeness. An age-gap LN adaptation with an obnoxiously long title seemed like the furthest thing from my lofty wishes. This pretty petty pessimistic mindset loomed over me as I went into this series. It has certainly given viewers other than myself reasons to give pause and get mad, thanks to material that can be seen as upsetting. But in spite of this series' controversies, I did find myself rather impressed at the refreshing way its taboo themes were addressed. After being surprised, I shaved and wrote a (spoiler-free) review. Let's jump into "Higehiro."

He gets cucked by a co-worker. He drinks. He stumbles home drunk. He meets an attractive girl. Seems standard so far, but things are about to take a rather unexpected turn. The girl goes by Sayu. She's 17, and comes to our middle-aged main character with a strange proposition: give her a place to lodge for the night, and she'll let him have his way with her. The recently-rejected Yoshida, inebriated and in his feelings, refuses this stranger's offer of sex. But much to Sayu's disbelief, he allows her to crash at his place regardless. "Higehiro" is focused exploring the circumstances preceding and resulting from this change to Yoshida's and Sayu's living arrangements. Now, this inciting incident could leave you feeling any number of different ways, from abject horror to mere indifference. In any case, we should properly look into the context behind this scenario, in order to understand what "Higehiro's" deal is.

"Wait, that's illegal." A middle-aged bachelor living with an underage stranger is bound to set off all kinds of alarms. What's already a dicey situation to take in for Western viewers is compounded by local context; according to statutory laws in Japan, harboring a minor is a criminal offence, regardless of consent. The series' script is very much aware of how Yoshida's actions could be perceived by audiences, and addresses this mistake several times within the show. Heck, the LN author Shimesaba took to Twitter with a disclaimer for the real-life implications involved in "Higehiro." When even the author himself is denouncing our main character for committing a literal crime, the warning sign is undeniably clear. What Yoshida does in this situation is dumb, there's no two ways about it. "Higehiro" fans and haters alike are on the same page here, Yoshida makes a terrible mistake. In his situation, the right thing any sensible adult would have done was to call Child Services, and let the relevant agencies handle this dilemma. But here's my question to those who share that line of thinking: "Would anyone be invested in that story?" Is there any merit to the tale of some drunk dude calling the cops on a minor? Point is, "Higehiro's" narrative wouldn't be "fixed" through the removal of this controversial decision; if anything, this weird inciting incident is exactly what the story needs in order to communicate its desired message. It can be counter-productive to talk about a show with this "How It Should Have Ended" mentality, even if that story demands a lot from our suspension of disbelief. The question we should be answering isn't whether or not Yoshida is in the right for taking in a homeless minor (he's not,) but what "Higehiro" tells us as a result of this dodgy writing choice. So let's address just that.

"Higehiro" offers earnest answers to its questionable start. The emotional juggernaut of the franchise, Sayu emerges from her flaws and trauma as the series progresses. Yoshida isn't the first person she had come to for that sexual transaction, but he's the one to help Sayu break out of that vicious cycle. He makes up for his criminal goof by turning out to be one of the more sensible protagonists I've watched recently. He's perceptive of others' actions and acts in their self-interest, with a self-deprecating edge that comes with being a bachelor nearing their thirties. Unlike the bad age-gap show this season^, "Higehiro" ensures that the older MC never sees Sayu as a romantic prospect. The result is a father/daughter dynamic similar to something you'd find in "Usagi Drop." Yoshida acts as a kind-hearted guardian over Sayu, as she learns to cope with the circumstances that first drove her to Yoshida's doorstep. That's not to say that "Higehiro" plays its age-gap relationship completely safe either. Awkwardness and mild sexual tension between the two is interspersed throughout the show, which I actually find to be quite diegetic. Watching the characters acknowledge their growing intimacy makes this bond feel human, plausible, and quite unlike anything I've ever seen before. This overall niceness isn't limited to our wannabe dad MC, but carries forwards to most of the ensemble cast as well. Airi Gotou, Asami Yuuki and Yuzuha Mishima all have their respective moments to motivate Sayu as she grows out of her destructive habits. Our cast lends strength to a stranger in need, with a degree of openness and optimism that is really refreshing to watch weekly. The pep talks motivating Sayu to confront her deepest fears and embrace life rarely fails to warm my heart. Seeing this broken individual break free from her harmful vices was a rather cathartic experience, amidst the issues we've brought up so far, and the problems we're about to tackle.

Despite "Higehiro's" best efforts, it sometimes feels like the series isn't making the best out of its own situation. One big caveat actually comes with one of the series' strengths: Yoshida's maturity. He doesn't really undergo a character arc in this story, mostly acting as a mentor alongside Sayu. What would have been two ends of an age-gap ends up feeling like half of a missed opportunity, as Yoshida's perspective rarely takes the spotlight from Sayu's growth. I'm unsure if this is an issue present in the source material, or a concession made in order to wrap up the adaptation within a single cour. In any case, this stagnation in character development results in certain stretches of the narrative meandering around similar story beats, especially towards the latter half of "Higehiro." The script feels somewhat lost at times, resorting to Mishima delivering stream-of-consciousness rants to our other characters in order to motivate them in vague, inconsequential directions. I'd respect Mishima's efforts to get the plot going, if her obtuse rants didn't make up some of the more obnoxious portions of the show. Speaking of annoying, "Higehiro" does a pretty poor job with its villains. I refer to them as such since the show refrains from adding nuance or dimensions to their portrayals. Perhaps giving some depth to the figures in Sayu's haunting past would further incriminate Yoshida's actions in the audience's eyes, but it's difficult to take scenes seriously when these goons appear. Probably the biggest issue to take with "Higehiro" is with its depiction of mature scenes and disturbing themes. Making sure that Yoshida never sexualizes Sayu is key to making sure "Higehiro" gets to share its intended message. While Yoshida himself doesn't sexualize Sayu, the show does that to its own female protagonist. Some of it feels right within the context of the story, but other instances scream "fan service." Certain explicit shots come out from absolutely nowhere, and disrupt the momentum of otherwise serious scenes. The haphazard direction is largely to blame for these missteps. The director and plenty of staff are newbies, and that inexperience is evident in some distasteful mishaps. There were a couple of moments here executed so poorly that they wound up looking more perverted than other "trashy" shows airing this season^^. Production across the board is largely unremarkable.

***

STRAY RAMBLINGS (SPOILERS:)

- ^We all knew this was coming, so let's compare "Koikimo's" and "Higehiro's" male protagonists side-by-side. Personally, I don't mind the lawful implications of a character's actions so much as, well, their character. As someone consuming figures in fiction, I want to understand their motivations and relate to their struggles - the intent is what matters. Yoshida is a selfless individual who rarely acts in his self-interest when it comes to Sayu. You could say he's a criminal, but at least he's not a creep. On the contrary, the core of Ryou's character is that he's a serial womanizer who wants to attain a power fantasy with a girl still in high school. The only age-gap in "Koikimo" is exploited primarily for comedic purposes, as the entire show is built around this perverted character flaw. You're free to dislike either show, but people who call out "Higehiro" for its share of controversies should be prepared to acknowledge that those problems are as bad, if not exacerbated, in "Koikimo."
- ^^A third of Episode 6 was really bad. Not a fan of Yaguchi being a ostensibly horny mfer. I'm not trying to sympathise with the rapist here, but it's hard to see him as anything other than a stock SAO villain when he pulls a perverted face you'd expect to see in "Sentouin, Hakenshimasu!"
- We're still not done talking about "Higehiro's" dumber scenes. Episode 10 was a mostly functional look into Sayu's past. Nothing super unexpected here, but I think the direction held its own during Yuko's death. That is, until the show drops the ball in bizarre fashion. They cut to a nude scene of Sayu in the middle of the flashback, and it's really the most pointless thing. According to people who've read the source, she was masturbating, but the anime just cuts to her, ahem, wet hand for a few seconds and moves on. Completely unnecessary.
- Mishima really knows how to make a complete fool of herself every episode. Her dumbassery deserves an award. Speaking of awards:
- BEST GIRL: Asami. Smart and encouraging, she's a ray of sunshine all 'round. Possibly the only infallible character in the entire show. Gotou would have taken the top spot, had she not tried to bluff her feelings around Yoshida like a coy cougar.

***

To those who made it this far, thanks for sticking around! Glad you didn't pull a Sayu; God knows we have way too many "runaways" on this site. If you happen to like my verbose rants, feel free to check out my other reviews for seasons past and present. Peace~

Tl;DR:

The show's use of emotional harassment acts as a disagreeable hook that gives way to formulaic sex jokes. To say that a majority of "Nagatoro" hinges on this one trick is an understatement. While disturbing for some, Nagatoro's behavior in the anime isn't exactly off-the-table. However, it's still hard to justify how this relationship makes sense, and provides a hurdle that the series struggles to properly address. The series eventually clicks for viewers who can see past this show's messy start. Perhaps "Nagatoro's" biggest tease is what's to come. 6/10~

***

Rarely have I entered a show with as much trepidation as I had heading into "Nagatoro." ... Watching the PV as an anime-only didn't pique my interest so much as confirm most of my fearful misgivings about the franchise. This IP is no stranger to controversy and vitriol, with outrage sparking left and right about anything from tan-lines to trauma. Generally there are two sides to conversations surrounding "Nagatoro," and both are guilty of flinging around value judgements based on how others respond to the series. Ardent haters shame Nagatoro-stans for being masochistic simps who are OK with bullying. As for the fans, they accuse outsiders who don't "get" the series for being soft. On that note, I'd like to share what I gathered, with a third opinion that both ends of debate might end up bashing me for. Wish me luck, as we dive into a spoiler-free breakdown of "Nagatoro."

"Holy shit, they really went there." Consider yourself in like company if you were shocked at the way "Nagatoro" makes its entrance. Second-year Naoto, commonly referred to as "Senpai," is a soft-spoken member of the Art Club. A reclusive outcast, Senpai is very much the typical nerd, who dabbles in sketching to pass the time. One afternoon in the library, he accidentally spills the rough panels of a comic he was working on. This catches the eye of the enigmatic first-year Hayase Nagatoro, and she strikes up a spontaneous chat with our visibly-frazzled senior. What starts out as an innocuous conversation over Senpai's harmless drawings turns into a relentless exposé of his closeted fantasies. She goes as far as to enact a scene from this manga, in order to mock him for writing the main character as a self-insert harem-lord. This embarrassing altercation leaves Senpai in tears, and this only marks the beginning. Nagatoro frequently roasts and trolls Senpai for being a pervy otaku, shaming him for personal entertainment. In light of what's been mentioned so far, we should address how exactly the show chooses to frame all this harassment.

"Bullying" is a bit of a misnomer for the franchise. Translations for this title often assume the worst connotation, deriving the erroneous label of "Please Don't Bully Me, Nagatoro." How Nagatoro behaves in this initial stage of the story certainly doesn't help paint the series in a good light either. It's easy to see why this bad reputation exists, as the general community constructs negative first impressions of Nagatoro's actions. But as early as the first episode, "Nagatoro" makes some effort to distinguish itself from bullying. It achieves this by flashing back to a childhood instance where Senpai actually was bullied. A standard bully highlights the differences between their cool self and the lame victim, so no connection is formed. On the other hand, Nagatoro is attempting to bridge the gap in her own way, even if those methods happen to involve openly mocking the MC. Senpai soon discovers that this isn't how Nagatoro treats just anyone. She plays neatly into the "Sadodere" archetype, by obfuscating affection for Senpai through humiliating him. Her face is frequently beet-red as she toys with his feelings and makes constant jokes at his expense. Because some connection is being made here, bullying doesn't exactly fit the bill. For the sake of argument, we should classify Nagatoro's behavior as "consensual harassment" and move onto another aspect which makes this relationship unique. Nagatoro represents an anomaly as she rebels against Japanese social norms. In typical Japanese high school culture, upperclassmen are often treated with a degree of respect by their juniors. It's certainly unique to see a show so comprehensively trashing those conventions with every sketch. Alongside the constant teasing involved, the show's repeated use of the informal term "Paisen" (a play on the honorific "Senpai") demonstrates how far the show is willing to take things. Amidst all the chaos, "Nagatoro" tries its hand at "gap-moe" between the meek Senpai and his mischievous Kouhai, thereby reinventing how that junior/senior relationship is usually portrayed in anime. In light of this local context, Nagatoro's treatment of Senpai kinda makes sense. So long as the show actually depicts a dysfunctional friendship, it should stand to reason that Nagatoro's actions are technically OK, and even allows the series to subvert story tropes.


While clearing up this misconception makes "Nagatoro" more tolerable, that doesn't necessarily mean it's more enjoyable. I can acknowledge that "Nagatoro" takes the path less trodden, but that doesn't mean the road feels any less bumpy. Nagatoro and Senpai's relationship is as unique as it is nonsensical. The show's brazenness does little to convince audiences that its main pair actually became friends until well after the worst of his abuse. If someone mocks you to the point of tears upon your first encounter, chances are they're a scumbag that you should avoid associating with, let alone befriend. That line of thinking doesn't really change just because the victim has few friends, and still applies even if the prick is exclusively a prick towards that one unlucky individual. It's pretty basic social awareness that Senpai waves aside, like a lamb to slaughter. By the end of the pilot episode he claims that he "doesn’t mind" the antics of this minx; but that's a flat-out lie, given that his frightful meeting with Nagatoro left him in tears and kept him up all night. While Senpai lies about how he was treated like shit, Nagatoro is never held accountable for her bad behavior. This willful ignorance demonstrates how this series' sole focus is to establish the running joke of a Junior roasting the shit out of a Senior. There's no attempt at making this dysfunctional friendship one where Nagatoro's informal harassment is justified. Nagatoro's informal behavior isn't outright bad, if it develops from the two naturally opening themselves up to each other. "Nagatoro" winds up hitting us with all the emotional resonance of a one-night stand, by forcing its characters into an intermediate phase of a relationship for the sake of a quick, insensitive laugh. Their connection doesn't start out as something I'm invested in, but a mere setup for sitcom humor. This isn't a healthy basis for a relationship, this is an excuse for a comedic double act. It's a novel concept because it's neither been thought of before, nor adequately thought through. Even if we were to accept this pairing as a dynamic duo, there are barely any dynamics to be found. Senpai is such a pathetic pushover that he just sits there and takes whatever bait Nagatoro shoves in front of him. There's no chemistry in much of the series' sketches. It takes two hands to clap, but for much of the series it relies on a sole Noodle-toro arm to do all the work. With such narrow opportunities to work with, it's all up to our titular character to single-handedly carry the show on her slender frame.

Let's have a heart-to-heart about Nanashi's writing. Unlike certain mobs on Twitter, I'm not one to disregard his whole body of work just because of his "problematic past" from his days as a lewd "doujinshi" author. Similarly, I can understand his position when publishing manga for "Nagatoro." Before the Kodansha money started coming in, the franchise used to exist as a webcomic. This permutation of "Nagatoro" was far more explicit and unrelenting with its sadist tendencies. At some point Nanashi was asked to tone down the franchise into a story more accessible for wider audiences. As someone who had to rework some very nasty criticisms planned for Nanashi upon doing some research for this review, I can lend sympathy for an author who was motivated to change his original creative vision. Nanashi needed to prove that lightning could strike twice, innovating a winning formula by testing out new ideas. And that's precisely the issue to take with the "Nagatoro" anime. Too much of it feels like a testing ground; a work-in-progress rather than a polished piece. "Nagatoro" is an Alpha build, with a repetitive joke formula at its core. We've already discussed the more egregious instances of Nagatoro's teasing, which expose their non-friendship. But most of the other teases don't go as far; rather, they're formulaic punchlines that started to get stale by the second episode. Many of the jokes happen to be sex-related as well, and the sheer excess of mature content is compensated by Nanashi's apparent immaturity as a writer, as he taps into his rigid old ways in order to elicit chuckles ("Wow everyone, the hand soap Senpai applies looks an awful lot like semen! Please laugh!") Every predominant female member in the cast acts like a trashy bimbo, talking about doing nudes and gesturing to their breasts. But I can't even afford to stay mad at Nanashi for being a One-Trick Pony, as attempts at diversifying from the lukewarm sex humor pans out pretty darn poorly. One promising sketch sees Senpai inexplicably awaken within a fantasy RPG, face off against strange creatures, and team up with a catgirl cheerleader who draws uncanny similarities with Nagatoro. Towards the end, the catgirl turns out to be the final boss the entire time, and Senpai is revealed to have woken up from his nightmarish nap. The entire sketch was one overly-long setup, which paid off the same way all the other teases did. The fact that new background and character assets were splashed on half an episode, only for the script to pull the cardinal screenwriting sin of an "It Was All A Dream" ending, honestly made me more infuriated than the excessive sexual content and harassment.

Here's the big takeaway for anyone on the fence about watching this show: if you're bothered by any of the content I've just mentioned, I recommend against giving "Nagatoro" a shot. "Nagatoro" does have merits outside of its masochistic tendencies and "ecchi" attempts at humor. However, I don't believe these strengths are enough to warrant an experience that could outweigh any positives to be had, especially since these strengths are better found elsewhere. "Skilled Teaser Takagi-san" would be a great place to start, with its ominously mischievous tone replaced with a childhood atmosphere that feels vintage. Going off this sole season of anime alone, "Nagatoro" has a hard time setting itself apart from its problematic premise and recycled jokes. It's a damn miracle the show manages to stay afloat in the first place, and we'll be touching on that shortly.

Somewhere along the way, "Nagatoro" figures itself out. Somewhere along the line, it addresses many of the criticisms pointed out in this review. Senpai grows a spine and starts feeling like a participant in Nagatoro's games. As for Nagatoro, her trolling persona gives way to a layer of vulnerability. This newfound complexity makes this pairing's friendship tangible. These friends finally feel more than a mere comedic duo, and the jokes also land harder on average. I found myself chuckling more often, since the gags gradually got more creative, despite the continued reliance on innuendo. Towards the last stretch, "Nagatoro" tries its hand at overarching plotlines, a flashback into Senpai's past, and some genuine attempts at wholesome drama. Heck, even one-note joke characters Yoshi and Maki get better lines of dialogue. Somewhere along the road, "Nagatoro" stops being a blueprint for a functional character comedy; it becomes that show. Of course, I'd be remiss to not mention the aspects "Nagatoro" got right since Day 1. Bearing the torch from last season's "Horimiya," this series is brilliantly produced for a SoL. The lighting is gorgeous, and the visual gags always do an excellent job of elevating "Nagatoro's" middling joke material. This adaptation also understood how to bring its tan titular first-year to life. As soon as I heard her voice in "Nagatoro's" PV, I knew damn well who this character was trying to be. Sumire Uesaka's line delivery is equal parts sinister and bashful, and sits alongside Kenjirou Tsuda's performance in "Gokushufudou" as two of the best voice castings in 2021. Nagatoro's facial reactions live up to the hype garnered from the manga, and are certainly worth shouting out. The strong last leg of "Nagatoro's" first season isn't enough to completely make up for the many pitfalls that came before it, but crossing that finish line certainly is worth celebrating.

***

STRAY RAMBLINGS (SPOILERS:)

- Now that we're done, I'd like to offer an apology. With a show as controversial as "Nagatoro," I did feel an obligation to rip off the Band-Aid from the get-go. There's a decent likelihood someone would be offended at what this series has to offer, and I'd much rather spare them a negative experience than put them at risk. I'm not trying to do a disservice to "Nagatoro" for Internet points or whatever. If anything, posting my opinions as a public resource makes me more willing to err on the side of caution with this discourse.

- Speaking of discourse, can someone explain to me what the hell happened with the debate over Nagatoro's skin color? Really don't know what the big deal was.

- Shoutout to whoever came up with the show's visual references. Seemed like "Nagatoro" had everything, from "Jojo" to "The Garden of Words."

- BEST GIRL: N/A. Maybe next season.

***

Thanks for making it this far, let me know if I deserve any "Points for Improvement." If you happen to like my verbose rants, feel free to check out my other reviews for seasons past and present. Peace~

Tl;Dr:

"Super Cub" demonstrates how personal fixations can fix us. Besides the frequent bike trivia persistent throughout the series, “Cub” takes its time to revel in the joy of pursuing hobbies. Set to a calming soundtrack and stunning backdrops of the Yamanashi countryside, “Cub” puts us in the driver's seat through relaxing immersion. Viewers without motorcycles need not be worried about doing their homework before approaching this show, as the chill vibes and enjoyment is for everyone. So strap in, sit back and enjoy what this open road has to offer. 7/10~

***

Quarantine has been a pretty surreal time. It's bizarre to think that so many of ... us collectively had our bustling lives come to a screeching halt within the walls of our homes. Waiting out the COVID-storm, it's all too easy to feel bored and boxed-in with your thoughts. There are certainly worse problems to have, but this is a problem nonetheless. I, like many others, have picked up hobbies to stay preoccupied and sane. What you're reading right now is a product of one of those hobbies, and I'm happy you're giving this article the time of day! There's something comforting involved in pursuing your passions, and an oft-ignored joy to be had in the small day-to-day victories. "Super Cub" (“Cub” for short) is a timely reminder of that very same happiness, and how our interests can bring color into our lives. This review will be spoiler-free, with a Tl;Dr included towards the end.

Enter Koguma - The Girl With Nothing. No family, no cash, no ambitions. She doesn't even appear to feel blue about the way things are; a few tears would at least add color to her monochrome life. The still mundanity of Hokuto City is made evident in “Cub's” quaint opening minutes, drawing us into a world the way Koguma sees it - devoid of color. By happenstance she meets a used Honda Super “Cub”, which (literally) brings vibrance to her vision and a longing like no other. Much of the show is then centered around Koguma's day-to-day experiences with her Super Cub. She's not on the open road alone though, and is soon accompanied by the strong-willed motorcycle enthusiast Reiko. Also droppin' in towards the end of the season is Shii, newly-avid cyclist and aficionado of all things Italy.

If what I've mentioned sounds like a glorified motorcycle commercial… Well, you'd be mostly right. Someone could feasibly make a drinking game out of everytime a character says "This Cub can do anything." It's certainly not the first time a company tie-in was this obvious; “Cub” even goes as far as to reference "Initial D" with the urban myth surrounding Koguma's ride. But even if this is a case of selling out, there are certainly far worse ways going about it. Honda Motor Company reportedly supervised the writing behind "Cub," ensuring consistent and realistic details that go beyond close-ups on the featured motorcycles. Speaking of mechanical eye-candy, this series is a visual treat. Pulling back the camera lens from the show's motorbike chassis, "Cub" looks as stunning from afar as it does up close, with scenic visuals of Mount Fuji and the surrounding countryside. Also neat is the show's visuals as they relate to Koguma's perspective. "Cub" transitions between washed-out, near-grayscale scenes to radiant, saturated colors. The whole show acting as a mood light for Koguma is a trick that thankfully never gets old. The series' OST is a mix of classical compositions and a handful of original tracks, all of which contribute to "Cub's" soothing atmosphere. The cast of characters don't work against this calming background with over-the-top performances, but complement "Cub" nicely. Performances are lowkey and avoid "moe-blob" generalizations, all while standing out with their own enjoyable personalities. All-in-all, the world of "Cub" is as wholesome and relaxing as this season is gonna get. You could say that “Cub” is yet another case of a Cute Girls Doing Cute Things (CGDCT) anime about a niche topic, and I'd be inclined to agree. However, that take doesn't fully account for what this series aims to achieve. This chill watch isn't afraid to introduce momentary tonal shifts, as seen in an unexpected adventure throughout Episode 6 and a solemn incident in Episode 11. These engaging deviations to the formula are enjoyable in their own right and paint a clearer picture of what “Cub” is trying to convey: the healing power of hobbies.

“Cub” is a SoL distilled into its purest form. This isn't the kind of show concerned with love triangles or girls running to school with toast in their mouths. Instead, this "iyashikei" has its sole focus on leaving viewers with a "healing feeling" every episode. To achieve this, “Cub” draws us in with its effective episodic story structure. Each instalment establishes clear needs, and patiently shows us the process undertaken to achieve those goals. Obstacles introduced are resolved by the end of each episode, and the audience winds up sharing the same satisfaction that our characters do. I know that this observation is hardly revelatory; set-up and payoff is the most basic writing concept there is. But “Cub” is noteworthy for how stripped-down its methodology is. With little else to distract us, we offer our undivided attention to the low-key lives of “Cub's” cast, and are rewarded with a cozy reprieve. The characters' love for the open road (and Italian espressos) is all there is, and those personal passions exude strongly due to the depth at which those interests are explored. A 50cc in the picturesque Yamanashi Prefecture isn't merely a mode of transportation, but a lifestyle. As high school girls, there is recreational value to be had in cruising down the highway, as the scenic views of Mount Fuji loom in the distance. Of course, there are considerations as well, which Koguma and her friends need to address in order to continually enjoy their leisurely drives. Plotlines see the girls getting comfortable with their Super Cubs, obsessing over Cub trivia, learning bike upkeep, purchasing affordable accessories, taking on odd jobs involving their motorcycles, and finding ways to stay warm while riding in winter months. I think “Cub” captures common bike-centric plights and scenarios with a great deal of accuracy. And biking fans seem to agree, judging from third-party accounts from communities far more familiar with biking than I am (we likely have Honda Co. Ltd. to thank for this.) Just like how last year's "Eizouken ni wa Te wo Dasu na!" was a passionate love letter to the process behind animation, "Cub" wears its heart on its sleeve and makes its love for biking known. “Cub's” attention to detail, and the unflinching trust in said detail to carry the show, leads us audience members to enjoy an otherwise interest alongside our girls. Even though most viewers can't tell the difference between a Super Cub and a Vespa, the dedication put into demonstrating these girls' hobbies still strikes a chord. Koguma, Reiko and Shii may share vastly different experiences from ours, but the roots of their passions are universal. The desire to achieve a goal, and overtaking the objectives that make such a reward even more worthwhile on a personal level. It's cathartic to see those desires realized, and “Cub” emulates that joy with each week. And sure, tasks like changing motor oil or delivering documents are tiny and unremarkable from a distance, but it is Something. And that means all the world to The Girl With Nothing.

“Cub” is rather narrow in scope, and may not appeal to a ton of people. It's the kind of quiet, meditative watch that I almost exclusively put on before bed. The calming nature of the show might put you to sleep in the worst way. Half of “Cub's” character development amounts to our stoic MC eventually picking up sarcasm. There's nothing all that interesting about window shopping with Koguma at hardware stores, and it's not the sort of storytelling all audiences would appreciate. My snobby ass might claim that the sophisticated “Cub” isn't bound by story conventions of a heightened reality, but others would probably say that it's "boring." Something like "Yuru Camp" achieves relatively similar things as “Cub,” while adding a light-hearted comedic presence and entertaining character dynamics. In spite of these elements, Yuru is sometimes dismissed as a boring CGDCT, and “Cub” manages to be even more stripped-down. There's little “Cub” does to convince audiences that aren't already fond of the iyashikei genre, and I can't sugarcoat the show to argue otherwise. If you happen to enjoy works such as "Mushishi" and "Aria," Cub should certainly be high up on your planning list. But if you are foreign to the meditative realm of iyashikei anime, I recommend that you try out at least the first two episodes of “Cub”. At worst, it's hardly an insulting loss of your time; at best, you just might stumble across some of the most immaculate vibes in anime this year.

Before wrapping up, I'd like to leave you with some sappy closing thoughts. It's been over a year since I began sharing reviews, and I've enjoyed (nearly) every second of it. Writing started out as a fun way to kill time, and I gradually grew to enjoy articulating my thoughts and experimenting with my craft. Sharing my rants has not only been a rewarding experience in its own right, but also a process that helped me open up to the anime community. I didn't exactly have IRL pals keeping me company during the ongoing hyperbolic apocalypse. Making these reviews emboldened me to put myself out there. Being inside my home over the past year, I found social circles online that kept my life as lively and fun as it's ever been. Amidst the virus, this hobby healed me. If you haven't already, I urge you to find wholesome endeavors of your own, and share those interests with others around you. It may seem awkward, but there's no shame in trying to enrich your life with activities you enjoy. And heck, if your passion is watching anime, “Cub” is certainly a great place to start.

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STRAY RAMBLINGS (SPOILERS:)

- Koguma's bike has a kill count, it's practically Devil Z lol. Be scared.
- Didn't get to cover this in the review, but seeing Shii's cafe was pretty darn surreal by Cub standards. The show turned into a lesson in interior design for a good 5 minutes, I love it. The blend of all that European iconography, in a country known for being isolationist- 'kay, that's enough musing. I want a German sourdough sandwich.
- Was definitely not expecting to go from "purposely taking the wrong turn on the intersection" to "scaling Mount FRIGGIN' Fuji on a scooter" by the 5th episode. What a ride.
- BEST GIRL: Koguma. She's gonna make hella bank one day, watch this one.
- "You meet the nicest people on a Honda."

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Thanks for stoppin' by! After writing all this, I could really go for one of Shii's coffees, ngl. If you happen to like my verbose rants, feel free to check out my other reviews for seasons past and present. Peace~