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"I know I don't have a chance of going pro at this point. But still, if only for a second, I just wanna fly."

- Koichi, Chapter 2

My Hero Academia: Vigilantes is a prequel series that takes the core themes of My Hero Academia and looks at them from a new focal point. While using a pre-established setting and plot, Vigilantes manages to build its own identity surrounding the world of quirks and heroes. There are a couple of elements that will be hindered due to it originally being published alongside the main series, especially in regards to plot reveals that are reflected in My ... Hero Academia and possibly affecting how the series might feel when being read as a complete narrative. 

Vigilantes starts with a strong and clear focus, taking the concerns of the main series and offering a new perspective; looking at a side of society which is often brushed over in the main series. By exploring society outside of the labels of 'heroes' and 'villains', we can focus on characters that don't easily fit into these labels. It promises and tries, even if not successfully, to be a series that is less afraid to question the world that has already been established. While it does end up having a similar attitude to the main series, the beginning of the series definitely marks itself as something new and refreshing.

 Exploring an already established world comes with many restraints, from predetermined events to dealing with well-known characters, it can be difficult to create a plot that hooks readers in. By mixing in a number of new characters and being set in a time far enough removed that little is known about it, Vigilantes manages to maintain some tension throughout. Towards the end, as the narrative creeps closer to the story most readers will be familiar with, it begins to slip a little more into a status quo that it struggles to really interrogate as it would destabilise the world of My Hero Academia in a way that would make the main series feel too out of sync. 

 This unfortunately means that some developments are abandoned regardless of how important they initially seemed. This is a flaw that originates from how spread out the narrative becomes, trying to cover a lot of ground but not being given the necessary space to do so effectively. One of the most noticeable instances is that the darker tones and stylistic choices are lost by the end of the series. This doesn't mean that there needs to be an overbearing darkness to it (there is, after all, a large problem with creators trying to make stories more 'serious' in order to appeal to a certain audience) but it does make the tone feel very inconsistent at times. 

 Instead of trying to push its limits as far as it can, Vigilantes ends up falling into the realm of predictability, even when predetermined plot points aren't considered. This is a shame because, at least for the start of its run, the series really tried to stand out. 

 The attempts to stand apart from My Hero Academia are demonstrated in two main ways. The first is through its focus on a different approach to hero culture. Where My Hero Academia starts off with rose-tinted glasses, Vigilantes begins with a more cynical view and this works well; setting up a contrast which is reflected in other aspects of the story. This means that the world is less glamorised, especially when concerned with heroes like Endeavour and Eraserhead, as we see them from an outsider's perspective. Unfortunately, by the end of the series, it struggles to commit to this and comes to resemble the attitude offered by the main series. This is a shame as, rather than developing as the series progresses, the tonal shift feels rather abrupt. Despite this, there are a number of strong emotional moments that shine through the tonal inconsistencies and Vigilantes is at its strongest when it is attempting to challenge the ideals of both characters and readers.

The second way that Vigilantes stands out is through its main character, Kouichi. With his more limited quirk adding restrictions to his activities, he acts as a conduit for the reader without the potentially off-putting naivety displayed by early Izuku. This avoids some of the pitfalls which make Izuku feel like a failed representation of the idea that "anyone can be a hero." Instead of being gifted power through intervention, Kouichi makes use of his limited skill set in interesting ways. His struggles end up feeling more tangible and, while this element of his character slowly gets lost, it is easy to get invested in his struggles. 

 The other important characters are quite an odd mix, some balancing each other out while others tend to be given more plot despite never being deeply developed. This is especially true with the main trio. Vigilantes could have been a little better balanced if it focused more on the student-mentor dynamic between Knuckleduster and Kouichi. Partly because both characters have unique interpretations of the world that complement each other well. It would also mean that the series committed a little more to its own characters, rather than it becoming distracted by already established heroes that the reader has already encountered.

 Pop*Step, despite showing the potential for a lot of character development, finds herself falling into a repeating cycle that wears her character down over time. There is little resolution for her character or exploration of her psyche in any meaningful way. This is made worse by the over-sexualisation of her at times; it is shoehorned into the narrative and often beaten over the reader's heads to a point where it becomes frustrating. It could have opened a potential avenue for Vigilantes to explore that is in keeping with its approach to hero culture, but it quickly slammed the door shut in its own face.

An inevitable consequence of this being a spin-off series is that the original characters are often buried underneath returning characters. This is a shame because a couple of supporting characters are really well-handled and demonstrate interesting character growth that could have been utilised more. Even relying on the more sidelined heroes would be an improvement, rather than fleshing out characters that the reader will already have a good grasp of. That isn't to say that returning characters are handled poorly, it just feels as though they have been relied on too much to carry the story at times.  The original side characters often allow for the exploration of ideas that are inaccessible to the main character, especially around redemption. The slow development allows their progress to feel believable, showing the reader how they have changed rather than simply declaring it. These characters show that, despite some having copy-and-pasted personalities, there was potential for more development. 

The art style is engaging enough, especially with the use of shading; clearly marking it as different to My Hero Academia without straying too far from its main style. The consistency in this, as well as character design, allows Vigilantes to seamlessly slot in without getting too lost in the noise. This meant that, when reading both series at the same time, it was very difficult to mix up or get confused. And, while it would have been nice to see some more experimental panelling later on, the art does its job well.

Overall, if you are a person who enjoys My Hero Academia, then Vigilantes will be a good series to pick up. In some areas, Vigilantes tackles its themes and characters in a way that is more successful than My Hero Academia but in others, it is less so. For me, this is an ideal balance for a spin-off; it should complement without directly overshadowing or regurgitating the main series. Despite this, there are a couple of issues that make it feel like it's wasting its potential at times and making it feel like a bit of a disappointment by its end.  

“So in your next movie, I don’t want to see someone else’s story… I want to see your story.”

- Eri

Goodbye, Eri is yet another example of how Fujimoto can spin an intriguing short story that demands to be read at least twice. There are a lot of familiar themes at play, especially those that are explored in Look Back, but we are offered a fresh interpretation of them. This makes Goodbye, Eri a turbulent read that is sure to stir up a messy mixture of emotions in anyone who reads it.

The main narrative of this one-shot is a deceptively simple one, managing ... to maintain a level of relatability while carrying a more complex underside that becomes more apparent as the story progresses. This is the result of blending fantasy and reality which often makes it difficult for the reader to distinguish the fictionalised elements from the non-fiction. Fujimoto is able to craft a story that demands to be read twice; with each experience being markedly different. Being able to tell a short story in such a dynamic way demonstrates one of Fujimoto’s strengths as a writer; creating a story that feels like it’s alive, changing with every panel. The pacing is kept consistent throughout, allowing the reader to be thoroughly absorbed by the story.

There are also a number of quieter scenes within Goodbye, Eri which allows the plot to carry more weight while allowing the reader to have their own interpretations of what is happening within them. It is also notable that, rather than existing to shock the reader, plot twists have expanded the story and highlighted how difficult it can be to distinguish fiction from reality in the story. This demonstrates how well-planned the story is, and how confident the author is in its core idea. Oftentimes, there is a reliance on over-explaining elements of a story that aren’t as direct or obvious; leaving the reader unable to form their own opinions.

Goodbye, Eri is aided by having a key focus, preventing it from becoming too distracted by its more artistic elements and themes. It chooses to centre painfully relatable emotions, tackling them in an interesting way by mixing fantastical elements with reality. This leans into the idea of editing, whether it is in real-time or not. The narrative is in a constant state of flux for the reader, especially if read for a second time. It creates a more subtle meta element to the narrative that it doesn’t constantly try to show off. Instead, it is the tentatively handled emotional moments that are given the focus of the story.

The use of chance encounters is also interesting as, while it maintains a film-like contrivance, it feels natural to the plot. This is backed up by the narrative knowing how to mirror itself to relay more meanings. Plot beats are connected together, whether obvious or not. This means that the chance encounters feel important rather than just acting as a way to get the story to progress.

While the main character is not necessarily a distinctive one, Yuta works well for Goodbye, Eri. There is difficulty in trying to understand who he is, turning him into a conduit for the other characters. He perfectly embodies the role of the cameraman, with him often being directed by the other characters adding to this. There are also a couple of nice hints early on about the extent of how much he embodies this role. This lack of identity might make him a frustrating character for some; especially since it takes a while for his own personality to become more apparent. However, it shapes the story in a really interesting way; touching on its themes without feeling like it has been tagged on at the end to justify his position as the main character.

The side characters are also interesting, often outshining the main character; most notable with the titular Eri and Yuta’s mother. It is clear that there has been a thought put into how they mirror each other while simultaneously allowing us to understand the main character. This method of storytelling can often lean too heavily into exposition. However, by keeping the exposition concise and contained, the narrative avoids being bogged down by the need to over-explain the more subtle elements.

There are a couple of characters who have more exposition than is really needed, but this doesn’t hamper the story or distract the audience. Goodbye, Eri knows which characters are important to the story, and in turn, need more impactful characterisation compared to those who don’t. There is a clear enough distinction between these two groups which, yet again, makes reading the manga feel more like watching a film.

As with Fujimoto’s other works, there are a number of interesting stylistic choices made over the course of Goodbye, Eri. One of the most noticeable, and most effective, is the blurring of panels to replicate the feel of looking through a camera. It both aesthetically ties into the story while representing the blur between fiction and reality; making it difficult for the reader to initially distinguish one from the other. This matches well with the often uncanny nature of the facial expressions and postures that Fujimoto often uses; drilling an unsettling feeling into the story.

There is also the use of repetition which stands out when reading the story, although this is a little less successful. While the repeating panels are striking and allow for some more subtle nuances, there becomes a point where it begins to lose meaning due to being a little overused. While they don’t outright ruin the story, they can cause a little bit of disruption to the pacing of the story.

Overall, there is a lot to enjoy with Goodbye, Eri. From the interesting plot to the carefully thought-out panels, the story is one that will pull readers in. It really shows that Fujimoto has a way of telling short stories that have to be read twice and having both reads be vastly different experiences.

“What I want isn’t the truth. I want revenge.”

- Urara, Chapter 2

Ayashimon, like a number of Shōnen series that found themselves being ended before their time, was a manga that struggled to form a coherent identity for itself. At times it felt like a rehash of currently popular themes stuffed into a battle manga’s coat; quickly becoming trapped by this identity and unable to find its own voice. This meant that the potential established in the earlier chapters was quickly lost as it began to feel like a collection of repeated clichés.

By establishing a clear goal in its opening chapter, Ayashimon was ... given a strong start; offering a plot that tackled the inherently interesting topics of fighting and revenge. These gave the reader something to latch onto, helping them to get invested in the superficial narrative. Unfortunately, there was nothing else offered by the narrative as it struggled to balance the battle genre with a more emotional side that allowed the reader to care about what was happening. This doesn’t mean that there wasn’t a potentially darker side to the narrative, but Ayashimon struggled to commit to these elements.

It felt like there was a failure to trust that the readers would remain engaged in the story if there wasn’t the promise of an imminent fight. This reliance on fighting to maintain attention led to a number of other problems; such as the lack of emotional investment. There was also a reliance on exposition in order to tell the reader what was happening and why characters were acting in certain ways. It created a distance between the reader and characters because we never got to see the world from any particular perspective. It was as if the author didn’t have confidence in their premise, haphazardly telling the reader what they should find interesting rather than letting that interest grow naturally.

The reliance on exposition also reduced some of the potentially interesting conflicts into feeling one-dimensional. With having a large number of fights in such a short run, it is easy to feel like they aren’t fully developed and so exposition took the place of drama. I do think that the ending does a good job of representing the general tone that Ayashimon sets up. While it could have been paced a little more fluidly, the open-ended approach avoided any hasty attempt to resolve numerous plot lines. However, this might be frustrating for some as a large number of questions that the series established were never answered.

This lack of conclusive ending works well because, for the most part, Ayashimon was treated as a rather one-dimensional series; limiting itself almost immediately by a superficial attachment to a 1v1 fight style. There seemed to be a pattern of the author establishing the potential scope of the story and then almost immediately limiting it. This led to a number of conflicts being unable to reach any meaningful depth as they became too reliant on the main character. This created a problem when the protagonist is treated as a meathead who is obsessed with manga.

While proudly displaying inspirations on their sleeve is nothing new for manga series, Ayashimon’s over-reliance on its odd brand of forced meta-comedy felt out of place. Having the main character be obsessed with wanting to be the main character wasn’t a bad choice, but there would usually be some sort of internal challenge to this type of dream. For Marou, however, there was no sense of internal complexity. He was simply someone who wants to be cool and this made him feel flat.

Outside of his manga obsession, Marou was established as a conventional protagonist, being someone who pushed through conflicts no matter what was in his way. While this can be a solid foundation for a character, the reader was not given any sign of internal growth, making it difficult to form an emotional connection with him. This led to the author telling the reader things about Marou rather than letting the readers understand who he was through the story's progression. He ended up feeling more like a plot device than a character which made him a little grating after a while.

His relationship with Urara was also seemingly trapped in stasis, struggling to develop any meaning to it. This was a huge missed opportunity as their personalities should complement each other well. One of the main reasons this ended up failing was that Urara was mostly there for her backstory; rarely showing any aspects of her present personality outside of the opening chapters. This was a shame because she seemed to be an intriguing character with a lot to offer. Instead, rather than building up her character, Ayashimon ended up focusing more on the character of Ten, someone who didn’t offer all that much to the early story. While a main trio is often a staple of Shōnen, especially in action-based series, his introduction caused a loss of balance between the characters.

There was a wider problem in how characters were handled; the reader didn’t see them having active roles. Both Ten and Urara’s roles are centred around Marou which meant that we didn’t see them act of their own accord. It would have been nice to see them show some form of development or importance to the story outside of the main character, especially as Urara should functionally be the most important character.

The inability to balance characters was something that affected a number of the side characters as they struggled to land any impact or leave an impression. They felt more like two-dimensional tropes as opposed to developed characters. Readers weren’t given any reason to connect to them, meaning that some potentially interesting plot points lacked an emotional weight to them. There were, however, a couple of characters who stood out; retaining a layer of mystery that made the reader want to know more. Unfortunately, due to the series ending, these mysteries could end feeling more frustrating than exciting but it showed that there was potential for Ayashimon.

The character designs were also quite interesting, especially those who weren’t part of the main cast. This was especially true for those used as a part of the environmental storytelling. They formed an interesting world that could have been better explored. It's a shame that there wasn't more faith placed on Kaku’s ability to visually tell a story. This would have alleviated the reliance on exposition and allowed the art some room to shine as it was often the quiet moments of Ayashimon that stood out the most; developing the characters in more meaningful ways. There was also an inconsistency in the tone of this series; especially with the darker elements that were demonstrated in the world-building of the opening chapter. Unfortunately, the story immediately limited itself to the yakuza groups and while it could have expanded out later in its run, it ended up feeling like wasted potential.

I should add that a couple of stylistic choices ended up feeling out of place; especially in regards to battle choreography considering this was Ayashimon’s main focus. If the series was going to take the meat-head fighter approach, then it would have been cool to see a little more variation in the earlier fights to show that the fights weren't going to be the same fight, with the same plot beats but with a different opponent.

Overall, it was the self-imposed limitations that end up causing the most problems for Ayashimon, taking a strong idea and turning it into an identity crisis. This is often rooted in a lack of confidence in both the story and the reader which can be very difficult to overcome. While there were definitely faults in Ayashimon, I believe that it was ultimately a combination of reader expectations and lack of strong characterisation that led to this series meeting a premature end.

“Look as hard as you can for the place where you can shine and stay there.”

- Queen Hiling, Episode 23


Ousama Ranking borrows from fairytales to weave an engaging story about loyalty, trust and forgiveness. Its whimsical approach makes for an endearing series that has an exceptionally strong start; defying expectations for most of its run. Unfortunately, some of the later episodes stumble, but they don’t take away from the overall experience of watching this show.

The main plot is deceptively simple; following the main character as he tries to grow into a strong leader. Over time, however, a complex story develops that weaves some darker ... themes that only make it more interesting. The audience is able to easily understand the core elements of the series which is important in fantasy settings where there isn’t as much exposition in its opening. This is something that becomes lost over the course of the series, with side characters being reduced to giving exposition.

Ousama Ranking does handle its tone well; creating some surprisingly creepy moments that lure the audience in. This is done without disrupting the pacing of the episodes; allowing the plot to unravel a lot like a fairytale. The strong command over pacing does falter towards the end of the series with tonal shifts becoming more abrupt. This culminates in an ending that feels forced; trying to create harmony between the darker moments and a generally empathetic story. It can make the ending feel unsatisfying as the series has to take a couple of leaps in logic while struggling to develop some of the characters' actions and motivations. I found that the final episode took a more positive forward, reflecting the strong start.

A number of fight scenes tend to follow similar choreography and plot beats which can make them a little dull to watch at times. While the fight scenes aren’t the main focus of the series, it would have been nice to see some more variation in the later episodes; especially in their length. This would have given the show more space to show how a character has developed throughout the narrative.

This also leads to a lack of consistent tension which can make some of the episodes have a noticeable change in tone and quality. However, this is also because Ousama Ranking tackles most of its ideas really well; notably with how it subverts the audience’s expectations. Some of these are born from fairytales and others are from our own expectations, but they are challenged in interesting ways. It becomes a series that focuses on the idea of understanding others, whether it is the audience coming to understand the characters or characters coming to understand themselves. Unfortunately, at times the series becomes reliant on plot twists which causes some potentially impactful moments to fall flat.

Perhaps one of Ousama Ranking’s biggest stumbling points is over its use of forgiveness. For most of the narrative, it is woven in well as the audience watches characters come to terms with what has happened to them and grow from these moments. This makes the forgiveness feel earned and the characters are consistent. This, however, is lost when concerning Daida and Miranjo. The conflict was resolved in a rather unsatisfying way that skipped over their conflict and brushed away any internal motivations. This risks leaving a sour taste in the audience’s mouth depending on how they relate to the characters.

Despite this, the main characters do a really good job of holding the show together through the rougher moments; especially Bojji. His struggles have weight and the audience can watch him grow throughout the story. This compliments his journey while giving him more depth than what we might first assume. Bojji is also treated thoughtfully; especially with him being both deaf and mute. There is a balance struck between his internal and external struggles with his disabilities only being a natural part of this. They aren’t used as an excuse or to garner sympathy. There are, however, a couple of inconsistencies around Bojji’s ability to lip-read where we see some moments where he understands what people are saying despite not looking at them. This isn’t a major problem, but it can be a little odd to watch.

His relationship with Kage is endearing and benefits both characters as the audience can watch them grow in different ways. They mirror each other in their struggles but they are given enough difference for their perspectives to be interesting and refreshing. They aren’t bundled together and are treated as separate entities for most of Ousama Ranking. Kage is unfortunately cast aside in the latter episodes, becoming reduced to simply being Bojji’s friend which is a shame because the characters played well off each other prior to this. The character’s backwards development is mostly reversed in the final episode, so if there is a sequel series it will hopefully progress his character more.

The supporting characters are also, for the most part, well-written; often surprising the audience as they defy expectations. This does highlight an uneven pace of development for different characters in later episodes. This is a consequence of having so many plot twists centring around characters; they begin to feel like they have unstable foundations. In turn, this can make it feel like they don’t actually develop as it becomes difficult to understand who the characters actually are. Some of the relationships between the supporting characters are underdeveloped; often not given much definition or space to be explored. While this can create a sense of intrigue, it can also make some characters feel inconsistent. This means that a small handful of character resolutions don’t end up feeling fully satisfying; especially when considering their actions. It is clear that Ousama Ranking was trying to tackle a lot of concepts and ended up struggling with treating them all consistently.

One area that this series shines is through its style which captures the fairytale tone while being pleasing to watch, especially with the settings. I can see its visual style could be off-putting for some, but it does add an extra layer to the story and allows it to stand out. It also isn’t afraid to experiment with its style and perspective to heighten certain moments. Ousama Ranking doesn’t overuse these and it makes the series feel more dynamic to watch.

The colouring of the series, however, is a little strange in places. Initially, it starts off as vibrant and full of life but there is a period in the middle where it feels a little off; almost less vibrant, but this rectifies itself by the end of the series. The soundtrack is similarly interesting, fitting the almost medieval setting. There are a couple of moments where the music doesn’t really fit the scene it's in. This is most notable healing scenes during tense moments where it disrupts the flow of the scene due to its more joyful tone.

Overall, Ousama Ranking is an interesting series that, despite having a small stumble towards its end, tells a very interesting story. It wraps up with a mostly satisfying conclusion that, while it leaves room for a sequel, can stand well on its own. It is definitely a show that is worth a watch, especially if you enjoy the fantasy genre.

“They’d want to see all that the world has to offer. Humanity can’t possibly resist that desire!”

- Ryuusui, Chapter 102

Dr. Stone is a manga that tackles an inherently interesting question; what would happen if humanity returned to the Stone Age? It takes a more scientific approach, balancing its answer with enough fiction to create a fun story that spans the world. While its wide scope does cause a couple of issues in the final quarter of its run, there is a sense of enjoyment that runs throughout. This is impressive as science fiction can be a difficult genre to get right; the more entangled with ... reality it becomes, the more explanations are needed to make the story understandable.

Dr. Stone chooses to ease its readers into its scientific stylings by using inventions to mark clear points of change. With a goal as grand as reviving the human race, it would have been difficult to create a sense of progress. By limiting its scope in the earlier chapters, Dr. Stone creates a forward moment that the reader can pick up on. It is also done by using the Ages of Man meaning that the story never feels static and shows that it has a strong vision behind it. It also avoids hammering science into the reader’s head; offering depth on science without giving long-winded lectures. This does mean that some of the supposed realism is lost early on but, since this is science fiction, it has little effect on the story. Science, despite being the focus of Dr. Stone, doesn’t hold the manga back. Instead, it is used as both a mechanic and a motive; seamlessly entwining the scientific advancement with plot development.

There are also some more tender moments, used to take a break from the story’s rapid pace. The pacing allows for these moments well and greatly benefits the earlier chapters. It prevents the story from becoming boring. Dr. Stone also shows a deep consideration for its premise; putting thought into how the world might change and some of the struggles that will be encountered. It does a really strong job of marking out a core idea and sticking to it; ensuring that every plot beat is relevant.

Where it struggles a little is in tonal consistency with the changes in tone causing whiplash; especially with the more comedic moments. It can become jarring and disrupt the flow of the story. This lack of consistency and flow is most notable towards the end of the series. There are a lot of events happening in a short space of time and it feels rushed. The resolution is also a bit hit-and-miss as there is a handful of unanswered questions and partially neglects the main focus of the series. It moves away from thinking about the future and instead turns to the past.

This isn’t necessarily a cop-out, but it doesn’t feel as satisfying as you hope it would be. The end also neglects a lot of the supporting cast, meaning that only a few have any real closure to their stories. It mirrors some of the abrupt ways that conflict would end throughout Dr. Stone. For conflicts that are based on a character’s philosophy, we would assume there would be more of an internal struggle. However, many antagonistic characters seem to change their minds easily which can make them feel a little flat. It is the characters and ex-antagonists who retain their personal beliefs, even when they don’t align with Senku’s, that remain the most interesting.

It leads to a couple of poignant moments, but we don’t get many of them. This is because Inagaki was written into a corner where the Kingdom of Science needs to be seen as the good guys with their no-killing rule. The only way for them to succeed is to have their opponents change their minds or to be left in stone. It means that some potentially satisfying resolutions can never happen without sacrifice.

Another way that Inagaki is restricted is by having Senku be a genius. One of the biggest criticisms I have is that we never see him branch away from what existed in the old world. While it makes sense that he would use technology as a theoretical guide, it feels more like the story is chained to reality. It’s one of the reasons why the ending feels like a major shift away from this. However, Inagaki does do something which a lot of writers struggle to do with these characters. He makes Senku likeable and doesn’t completely isolate the reader from him. While we are sometimes alienated from his perspective, the reader is allowed to understand his reasonings and see who he is on a deeper level. This means that, while his personality remains consistent, the reader feels an element of his growth regardless and it feels rewarding.

Senku also avoids being reduced to just being the ‘scientist’ with the manga balancing his logical nature with some more emotional qualities. His connection to Byakuya is one of the noticeable ways that this is done, along with some of his older friendships. Unfortunately, this doesn’t translate to his relationships with the supporting cast as they only interact when the characters are plot-relevant. This has a knock-on effect where there is a clear divide between well-developed characters and those who have been left on the side.

Some of the characters, such as Ryuusui and Gin, are characterised through their actions; we can see who they are and feel connected to them. In turn, they add more depth to the story and form interesting relationships with other characters. However, characters introduced later in the story tend to lack this level of definition and the reader is told how they are supposed to be. There is also a lack of depth given to the relationships that don’t involve Senku. It often feels like the supporting cast can sometimes be an afterthought.

The characters can also feel inconsistent during the more comedic moments. It is often during the abrupt tone shifts that can make them feel inconsistent. Some of the more comedic characters can also become a little annoying as they are very repetitive at times. This mirrors the repetitiveness of the catchphrases; while they aren’t as noticeable when reading weekly, they can become grating when reading Dr. Stone as a whole.

The art is consistently strong; conveying the core ideas of the story well. Some of the action scenes do rely heavily on lines to show dynamic movement which can make certain panels very dense to look at. However, these moments are few and far between so they don’t affect the flow of the manga. There were also a couple of really interesting design choices, such as the way Boichi personified elements of nature. It would have been nice to see this aspect used more as it harkens back to how people perceived the world before advancements in science gave us a clearer understanding of our world.

Overall, Dr. Stone is a science fiction manga that takes its premise and runs with it. By focusing on the idea of progress rooted in science, it confidently tackles a range of topics and weaves an interesting story. While the narrow focus does lead to a couple of issues, such as the characterisation of secondary characters, it remains an enjoyable read. I would definitely recommend this series to anyone looking to read a series that remains consistently fun and tackles a couple of interesting concepts.

“We made a lot of mistakes but deep down we haven’t changed.”

- Matsuno Chifuyu, Episode 24


To avoid confusion I am going to be referring to two different versions of the main character: "Takemichi" will refer to the consciousness of the protagonist the series follows, even when he is in the past. "YT" will refer to the consciousness of the young Takemichi. Anyway, on with the review.

It is important to be aware that Tokyo Revengers is not a story about time travel. This is an early warning for people who saw the summary of this series and are drawn in by that element of the ... plot. If you are looking for something that focuses on the concept of travelling to a different time and the complexities that surround it; Tokyo Revengers won’t be for you. For those who are still interested in watching (or who have already watched it) Tokyo Revengers, you have an inconsistent series that struggles to maintain its stride. It becomes overburdened by cliches which muffle its voice and soften some of the darker themes that it tries to tackle. However, there are a number of interesting elements at play, and a strong supporting cast, which can make this an enjoyable show to watch.

Going into Tokyo Revengers, it is clear that the animation staff had a very specific image of how the plot was going to unravel. While the clarity of vision allows the series to replicate some of the key elements of the manga well, it also becomes a shackle that the staff struggle to shake off. They had a clear plot point that they wanted to end on and so it feels as though they created the series around that particular moment. This caused the pacing to become painfully inconsistent at times; as though they weren’t confident enough to expand the plot outside of what was already present in the manga. It causes them to become reliant on repetition, with many flashbacks being used to fill out the runtime.

While flashbacks themselves are often necessary to show us how a character is feeling, if used too often they can trivialise the moments they are referencing. This makes some of the emotional hooks of the story become less impactful. This repetition is also reflected in its use of time travel where the audience is constantly moving between the past and present without having the time to understand how characters exist within these spaces beyond the main plot.

There is a further issue with the plot that is caused by the time travel mechanic. So we have Takemichi who, when we meet him, is an adult. He goes back in time and becomes a teen again however he is still the adult version of the character. This raises the question of where YT goes and who he actually is. For all we know, this character simply ceases to exist when Takemichi is in the past. While this usually isn’t an issue in this kind of series, YT has a tangible impact on the future when Takemichi returns to the time he came from.

A number of important events happen when a character that the audience never meets is in control of the narrative. With a majority of these having a negative impact on the story, it raises the question of why Takemichi doesn’t try and communicate what is happening to YT. It also makes for a very frustrating experience where obvious solutions are completely ignored. By not spending time exploring the perspective of YT, the audience is left with a number of gaps in the narrative that they have to fill with limited information. While this gap isn’t necessarily a hindrance it could make Tokyo Revengers irritating to watch at times.

This is a consequence of the series sticking with Takemichi’s perspective and being trapped with his preconceptions. The lack of explanation behind his ability to travel through time also fits with this approach to telling the story which would make the series difficult to watch for people who like tightly conceived time travel plots. This was probably a wise decision as stories that focus on the mechanics of time travel are often divisive and can be tricky to balance. It allows the story to be more accessible to a broader audience which isn’t a bad thing.

Unfortunately, it does mean that Tokyo Revengers also relies on its audience suspending their disbelief constantly due to a lack of coherent explanation. This makes some of the less believable elements of the story stand out more; especially the lack of adults and the portrayal of the teenage characters. This leads to one of the most common critiques in that the characters often don’t look or sound like teenagers which could definitely put people off. I think this comes from the series not necessarily aiming to show what it is to be a teenager but rather how it feels; whether it is successful or not is a subjective matter. It is, however, complicated by the main character being the Takemichi who we assume would carry the perspective of an adult.

Having Takemichi go back in time leads to a couple of other issues that affect how the audience perceives him. The first is that he doesn’t really maintain an adult personality, quickly regressing into a childlike state. While it could be argued that these are the effects of being in a teen's body, it is frustrating to watch. This also leads into the second issue in which the relationship between Takemichi and Hinata is unsettling and never really addressed. It is brushed over in the hope that the audience doesn’t dwell on it but, as we have flashbacks thrown around every episode, it is impossible not to.

The third issue is that, as mentioned before, we expect Takemichi to retain his adult perspective on the events that happen to him. Or, at the very least, he would be a little bit more critical and mature. Instead, it feels like they are trying to fill the gap of YT by having Takemichi act like a teenager. This inconsistency and confusion leads to him quickly being overshadowed by the supporting characters as he struggles to grow with the story.

The supporting characters, for the most part, are the strongest element of Tokyo Revengers. They have distinct personalities and those who have prominence are given a suitable amount of development. Having the plot focus more on these characters is one of the reasons that Takemichi often fades into the background. There is, however, an inconsistency within this group. Characters like Mikey and Draken are given preferential treatment which reflects a narrow field of vision for the story. Hinata, one of the main driving forces for Takemichi, is often brushed aside and not given room to grow. This happens to the characters in Takemichi’s original friendship group as well; they are cast aside for more interesting characters. The knock-on impact of this is that we get no sense of who YT was and how he differs from Takemichi as we know him.

The animation is a mixed bag; capturing the style of the manga while being broad enough to capture both the bloody and light heated elements well. There are a couple of noticeable cracks where character expressions and reactions don’t fit in with the scenes. This uncertainty in what background characters were meant to be doing is also felt in large group fights. The use of nearly static zoomed out shots quickly becomes stilted; lacking the flow that you would want to see in important fights. The transitions between scenes also fall into this territory; lacking a rhythm that would have helped carry the tense emotions over.

The lack of rhythm is also marked in the repetitiveness of the soundtrack with the main refrain being played seemingly on loop. This is a shame because some of the more subtle music worked really well and could have been utilised more.

Overall, one of the biggest problems that affects Tokyo Revengers is repetitiveness. The plot, characters and soundtrack are all affected. The anime relies on repetition to pad out its run time and it has a detrimental impact on its pacing. It also suffers from not forging a strong identity for itself; switching between more comedic scenes and darker plot points recklessly. However, it is an easy anime to find enjoyment in; especially with the side characters who really steal the show. There is also enough happening for a viewer to be engaged with the series and find merit in it.

"There are moments in life where we are struck to the core. But the one I'm most grateful for is the day that she found me."

- Isami Neruma, Chapter 1

Neru: The Way of the Martial Artist is a martial arts-based series that takes the digitally exclusive Bugei Michiyuki NERU and translated it into a print run. While the core elements of the series remain, with Isami Neruma attempting to become a martial artist. Hiraga, however, chose to introduce a number of new elements early on in order to make this release stand out from its predecessor. It is these changes, especially the ones made during ... the opening chapter, that highlight the reasons why Neru struggled to retain a readership.

The basic plot of Neru: The Way of the Martial Artist is one that has potential. Watching a character steadily become stronger can be a satisfying experience, especially when the progress is well-paced; balancing success and failure.

The opening to this series immediately disturbs this balance by introducing an element of mystery that feels out of place. It creates a weak foundation that is neglected by the main plot until it eventually collapses. There is a need constantly build on a mystery, whether that be subtly handled or not, as this reinforces its importance and shows the impact that it has on the plot. Hiraga Minya relies on the familial nature of the mystery to generate interest and imply its prominence, but this fails as there is little reference back to it and it struggles to pull the reader’s attention in. Neru also attempts to introduce a number of elements all at the same time; such as during the exam chapters where there are a number of new characters but the reader has no grasp on who is important and who isn’t.

There are, however, a couple of changes that improve the series such as Neruma encountering Haiba Akebi before her twin brother. This allows the reader to see her as an active fighter rather than relegating her to the sidelines; offering some interesting avenues that the series could have explored.

It does cause a couple of issues later on in regards to consistency. One of the characters, an archer, was being challenged about her place due to being a girl. While this isn’t an unrealistic storyline, it doesn’t really make sense as we have already seen Akebi being a very accomplished fighter who is respected for her talent. Within the space of a few chapters, we see one character imply that martial arts isn’t a place for women while another chides his sister for not turning up to practice. Having these two storylines happen so closely together makes it difficult to tell how the characters interact with each other outside of Neruma’s presence.

This lack of clear and maintained focus within the plot of Neru occurs despite its obvious goal which is highlighted from the start. This mostly appears when the series is trying to balance personal drama and action as it struggles to explore both aspects at the same time. The pacing becomes a little haphazard as it cuts between these elements and makes the story a little less coherent. Hiraga often ends up choosing to sacrifice one for the other; leading to less development on both sides. This is definitely a downgrade from Bugei Michiyuki NERU which managed to harmonise the emotional connections with the fight scenes.

However, there were signs that the series was improving the balance between drama and action; especially with the last major fight. The personal conflicts worked closely with the fight scenes and made the chapters more enjoyable to read. Hiraga really shows skill when they stretch fight scenes out over multiple chapters rather than having one chapter conflicts.

The original series used its opening chapter to develop Neruma’s character, showing how he struggled to fit in with society while developing the world around him. In Neru, he is glossed over as a character with the plot favouring a couple of less relevant elements. The lack of a comprehensive grasp of Neruma as a character reduces him to more of a caricature than the character he was in Bugei Michiyuki NERU. He simply becomes obsessed with martial arts without any compelling reason.

The side characters are also victims of the changes made to Neru’s pacing. Rather than taking the time to develop them, Hiraga quickly shuffles through them; making it difficult to tell who is important and who isn’t. This also makes any of the attempts to create an emotional connection between the characters fall flat. Most side characters are given a goal or character trait that defines them but, due to their rapid introductions, they are forgettable or not too engaging.

Their goals also create some internal inconsistencies that generate more unsatisfying questions. This is partly due to the lack of understandable motivations; especially when concerning fight scenes. The moments of tension lack weight, with the only exceptions being where the characters were well established before the conflict surrounding them. The only characters who felt developed were the ones who spent an extended time with Neruma, those being Akebi and Ryuzen Satomi. They had more concrete motivations and were allowed to develop over time and outside of conflicts. This growth also makes their fight scenes more interesting as the reader is made to care about them.

Where Hiraga shines is in the fight scenes. Each movement flows smoothly while, for the most part, remaining easy to read. There were some interesting decisions made earlier on to show how Neruma learned to fight through drawing out movements. It made his thought processes easy to understand while offering a unique perspective for his fight scenes. It’s a shame that this wasn’t utilised more. This also reflects Neru’s trouble with pacing as, despite being well choreographed, the action scenes are rather short and so it is difficult to get into their flow. They become moments that look good rather than being elevated to enjoyable spectacles; especially fight scenes that are weighed down by unnecessary exposition.

One of the reasons that the fight scenes stand out, in particular, is the art style used. It captures the nostalgic feeling of the 90s; using lighter lines to create an almost ethereal feel to the manga. The only issue I sometimes had was with lighter hair becoming difficult to make out, however, this only affects a small handful of characters.

Overall, Neru: The Way of the Martial Artist was a series that demonstrated its potential, but not consistently enough to garner a regular readership. Perhaps this could have been improved if martial arts remained at the forefront of the story. The ending does what it can with its material; referring back to its opening chapter in a nice enough way that it is easy to see how the story would have progressed if given more time.

I wish Hiraga all the best for their future as they showed that they had a fascinating way of capturing movement and a strong sense of martial art-based fighting. Hopefully, they will be able to apply this to a new story that allows them to demonstrate their talents.

“You cast pity where it’s unwanted. You don’t realise that you look down on others. I choose my own path, no matter what I do!”

- Vanitas, Episode 9

Vanitas no Karte is a series that opens with a simple goal and an apparently clear endpoint but steadily becomes a more complex series as it progresses. Mixing its premise with a healthy dose of well-handled vampire lore and a host of interesting characters, this is an anime that has enough to draw an audience in and keep them watching.

The opening scene of the series definitely leaves a strong impression; setting up what is to come and ... giving the audience a very generalised idea of the key elements involved. As the series goes on, more elements are added; building on what the audience has already been told. This really makes Vanitas a series more suitable for watching in a short space of time since the weekly episodes made it a bit difficult to remember what was happening, especially in regards to the world and lore. At times the plot can feel very dense, with the series having a constant forward momentum and using its time effectively. It also retains an air of mystery throughout, playing its cards at effective moments which works well for keeping the mystery elements feeling fresh.

One of the elements that makes Vanitas no Karte stand out is how it treats vampires. It creates its own mythos around them that, while it mostly remains true to the core elements we would expect in a vampire story but reworks them to suit both its settings and themes. We also get a couple of different dynamics within the vampiric world as well as the human world which create a nice balance of perspectives around the treatment of vampires. This treats them more like people who have complexities rather than reducing them either being simply misunderstood or stereotypical villains. Having a vampire, Noé, as one of the main characters allows the narrative to lean into how diverse the world of vampires is as his reactions help to guide the audience as to how this society usually functions and what is seen as peculiar or concerning. Vanitas is a far less reliable character but this makes him more enigmatic and unpredictable; establishing a great dichotomy between him and Noé. It is their relationship that is the focus of this first series, setting it up and showing how the two characters interact; still managing to retain a layer of ambiguity about whether they will ever fully see eye-to-eye about certain topics. Not only does this stay true to their personalities, it mirrors the tone established by the closing lines of the first episode.

Due to the first series of Vanitas no Karte focusing mostly on their relationship, the secondary characters have less development in terms of gaining dimensionality. For most, we get an understanding of their relationships and what their functions are; allowing the audience to understand more about Vanitas’ setting. However, for the most part, they are handled well enough that they have purpose and don’t feel like unnecessary additions. There is a sense that we will slowly learn more about them as the series progresses. We also have a really intriguing mix of characters that offer a lot of potential, from the Vampire Nobility to the vampire-hunting Chasseurs; from the open and direct Roland to the mysterious Lord Ruthven. It creates a world that feels, for the most part, like it is going to develop into something that feels alive. The voice acting is also stellar; bringing the characters to life and enhancing the experience in a way that the manga cannot.

The animation is handled fantastically, capturing not only the setting of 19th Century France but also Mochizuki’s incredibly distinctive style; bringing it to life. This is most noticeable in the scene focusing on Charlatan, especially with Naenia, standing out as the surrealism and haunting charm are conveyed to the audience. Historical France has often been a setting associated with a mystical whimsy and a hidden darkness that Vanitas does a great job of conveying; especially in its backgrounds. The soundtrack also helps bring the setting to life, especially the opening which really sets the tone and immerse the audience in its world. It is no understatement to say that the series looks and sounds gorgeous and there are nice touches added by the anime staff. Some of the stylistic choices made by Bones work really well, such as the use of CGI for the book which gives it an other-worldly feel. The use of colour to help convey the mood of characters, especially in Episode 5, heightens the emotional connection between the characters and the audience. The darker moments are also well animated, giving them a sense of importance which allows them to stand out from the gentler tone of the series.

The pacing of fight scenes is also done well, conveying each one cleanly so that the audience knows what’s happening even when the two main characters are doing different things. It also manages to convey the different styles of fighting well; mixing hand-to-hand combat with weaponry in a coherent way where one doesn’t become lost in the other. There is also a consideration for the supernatural and how to combat it; as demonstrated by the Chasseurs. It creates a steady foundation for the next series to develop from. The only stylistic choice that I personally wasn’t too fond of was the use of quick cuts as these can be distracting and affect the pacing a little. This would be when the series would quickly flash an image, usually a shot of a character's eyes, and then it would be gone. It seems to be one of the stumbling points of an anime adaptation as Mochizuki would often dedicate a panel to a small moment that would later become significant. In a manga format, the reader has time to dwell and read the image, but for an anime, there had to be a decision made on whether to linger on the image or move on quickly. I can see why they would settle for a faster pace but it can come across as a little bit abrupt.

There will be a few things that might put people off watching Vanitas. One of the most notable is the pace, especially in the beginning; it can range from being slow to being fast in a very short space of time. A part of this is due to its slow build-up which is to be expected as this series acts as a foundation for the next season to work from. It also means that the audience is given quite a lot of information to take in, which could make some moments confusing or potentially dull to watch. However, these scenes are few, far between, and always serve a purpose. The second thing that could put people off are the moments of comedy. The tonal shift and switch to a cuter art style will potentially be off-putting, especially if you are looking for a series with a serious tone. Comedy’s subjective nature means that these moments will inevitably fall flat for some people. They do balance the tone of the series out though, keeping a more pleasant façade that eases the audience in while something darker lurks underneath.

Despite its potential flaws, Vanitas acts as a great series that sets the foundations for something even better to follow. It introduces the mechanics of the story, establishes an intriguing mystery and lets the audience get familiar with the setting. This is prioritised over character development so that it can be developed in-depth rather than trying to balance two large undertakings in twelve episodes. Overall, Vanitas no Karte is a series that takes its premise and begins to weave an intriguing tale of magic, vampires, and a deadly curse.

“Werewolves are the same as humans. They must eat, or they will starve and die. There’s nothing “good” or “evil” about it.”

- Grimm, Chapter 1

Red Hood is an interesting case of a manga that had a strong core idea but quickly lost sight of what it was trying to say. This led to an unfocused and chaotic series that ended up privileging style over story and suffering for it. If it had a more developed concept then it could have gone far but, unfortunately, it fell at the first hurdle.

The plot of Red Hood is easily its weakest and its most under-utilised element. Its ... initial premise of a young boy training to be a hunter is very reminiscent of other Shōnen titles and so it can feel like a very over-used plot starter and struggles to make Red Hood stand out amongst other publishing titles. It would have been more successful if it included a clearer focus point for the readers to work towards. For example, the Mayor could have been utilised more in the first chapter; creating a mystery that the reader could latch onto and try to uncover as the narrative progressed. Instead, there is a large enough break between his appearances that it makes his reappearance feel more like an attempt to drive up readership. This lack of clarity also leads to Red Hood quickly becoming riddled with contradictions. No moment is more obvious than in Grimm’s early speech about werewolves being neither good nor bad, instead simply fighting to survive. By creating the implication that werewolves aren’t evil, Red Hood could have explored this aspect more; presenting the werewolves as morally ambiguous or verging on sympathetic characters. Instead, this statement is immediately contradicted as the only werewolves we see are portrayed as being stereotypically evil. This inability to commit to ideas is repeated throughout Red Hood and the contradictions only become more apparent.

Perhaps Red Hood needed a stronger editorial presence to help guide it down a more certain path as it could have covered some really interesting ground. Even within the short length, we see a dense plot that has a lot happening in it. Obviously, due to the series being cancelled, the main plot points are condensed and are very fast-paced as Kawaguchi attempted to demonstrate his vision all at once. I think that, if the series had been longer, this could have developed a very interesting tale to see unfold; especially if the character development was slower and given the time to grow naturally. This would have been bolstered by how well Red Hood plays into its fairytale setting. It strikes up a rather interesting relationship with pre-existing fables which could have been explored more. Unfortunately, these moments become buried under the sheer volume of different ideas that are being pushed onto the reader; noticeable in the rather abrupt narrative changes which take place.

It is the characters who suffer most from the inconsistent tone and pacing. The two main characters are almost polar opposites of each other in terms of how they are presented but they both suffer from serious problems. Grimm, the experienced hunter, has a hex placed on her so she can only access her true strength for a couple of hours at a time. Velou is a young boy who wants to become a hunter and goes through an exam to become one, he also suddenly develops an incredible power. This is very similar to the early plot of My Hero Academia, which Kawaguchi worked on as an assistant. While it isn’t rare for previous work to influence newer stories, it can often feel like Red Hood lacks its own distinct voice. Only during the final few chapters do we see these two develop in a way that could have been really interesting. Unfortunately, it was all crammed into the final few chapters, making any character development feel like a personality transplant.

The rest of the cast is also awkwardly handled, with most of them being introduced at the same time. This makes it difficult to remember who each character is and what their skills and abilities are. There is also a reliance on backstories to build certain characters in the latter half of the manga which means readers aren’t given time to form their own opinions before being told whether we should feel sorry for a character or not. Characters who aren’t given any semblance of a backstory tend to be quite forgettable.

The art style, while reminiscent again of My Hero Academia, is striking and perfectly fits the rustic fairytale setting of Red Hood. This is especially true for the settings and character designs; in particular, the werewolves are both grotesque and interesting, offering a unique interpretation of the creatures. The other non-human designs also reflect a strong aesthetic vision that struggles to balance out the noticeable problems with Red Hood’s plot. The fights are fairly engaging and easy to read although there is little experimentation with panelling; especially when recalling previous scenes where a whole page is copied into the background with the text removed. This makes it difficult to pick out any moments of significance and comes across as a little bit lazy. There is also a reliance on the art to carry the exposition-heavy moments; usually leaning into a more comedic approach. It often creates a jarring tone that could have been handled better by committing to the more serious nature of Red Hood’s story. Much like the rest of this manga, it boils down to style over function and that can quickly alienate the reader.

Overall, Red Hood is a series that suffers from a lack of consistency and no clear direction beyond a very overused plot structure. During its later chapters, it tried to make a statement about storytelling but ended up falling into too many pitfalls itself. I wish Kawaguchi all the best for the future as he has a really interesting artistic vision, all that’s needed is a plot that can match it.

“The one who will stand at the top of the world is the one who feels no fear whatsoever.”

- Dio, Episode 7

There is always a level of scepticism I have when watching a series that can be described with the word bizarre. It can often seem that it is used as a catchall; giving the author some wriggle room for unexplained, nonsensical events or confusing plots. For Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure, the word bizarre is nowhere near enough to describe what happens and that is what makes it so great to watch. Stardust Crusaders is ... a sequel that works to improve on the earlier instalments of Jojo's Bizarre Adventure; revelling in the bizarreness and unafraid to experiment with its original premise. There were, however, elements that this series struggled to make ground on; especially when compared to Phantom Blood and Battle Tendency. While Stardust Crusaders is definitely an enjoyable watch, I can't help but feel that this is a case of the series taking two steps forward and one step back.

Continuing on from Battle Tendency, Stardust Crusaders improves and refines some of the essential elements that Jojo's Bizarre Adventure is known for. This is most noticeable in the main cast who have more developed relationships when compared to the earlier instalments. Watching the two generations interact is fun, with Jotaro's more abrasive demeanour working well with Joseph's larger-than-life personality. The other additions to the main cast also work really well; pushing the plot forwards while being distinct enough to balance each other out. This is a big improvement from Phantom Blood and Battle Tendency which struggled to fully flesh out the characters who fought alongside the Joestars and instead chose to wait until their final moments. Even the more frustrating decisions that characters made felt like they were grounded in how the character has been acting up until that point. This meant that they remained likeable despite their eccentricities and we get to know more about them. The voice acting is also great, managing to convey the tones needed without being too distracting which can be tricky in a series like Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure.

The plot of Stardust Crusaders is a clear example of the journey being pushed to the forefront of the narrative with the destination only being brought up now and again as a reminder that it exists. For some, this will be understandably frustrating but Jojo’s has always been a series that relishes in the journey and it is pushed to the extreme here. While I have my issues with the use of the villain of the week format, it is really fun to see how each stand will be used and what ability it will have. The animation works well in conveying the mood and definitely heightens the more bizarre elements of the series; especially when paired with the colouring which often uses a striking colour palette for emphasis. There are, however, a small handful of times where it feels that style is pushed over narrative; such as when Jotaro talks underwater. These are few and far between, but they can be a little bit distracting.

It is the introduction of the stands which has the biggest impact on Stardust Crusaders. On the whole, they are a great addition as they create a new dimension for the series to operate in; heightening the fights and being visually appealing. They also introduce a new fighting mechanic that is easy to understand while having a large amount of potential and the stand character sheets gives the audience a general idea of how strong each stand is which is a helpful addition. However, by introducing them through a tarot card format, the series is written into a corner where the audience expects each of the Major Arcana to be referenced. On the surface the tarot format allows the audience to have a better grasp of what stands are and how they work but this leads to a ‘villain of the week’ format which is a distinct shift from Phantom Blood and Battle Tendency. It is this format that causes the two biggest problems in Stardust Crusaders; inconsistent pacing and forgettable antagonists.

The most memorable characters, outside of the main cast, are the antagonists who either re-appear in Stardust Crusaders - Battle in Egypt or have extensive interactions with the cast. Unfortunately, these instances are few and far between which is a shame. The villains were some of the strongest elements in Phantom Blood and Battle Tendency so it is definitely a disappointment to see the series take a step backwards in that department. It often feels like there is a revolving door with each antagonist leaving as quickly as they arrived. This means that they are undeveloped and struggle to create tension since the episode structure becomes a bit repetitive. While they have interesting designs and abilities, they can feel more like an afterthought rather than as characters which makes them easily forgettable.

This leads to noticeable pacing issues throughout Stardust Crusaders; especially with some of the stands not providing enough substance to act as solo antagonists. It makes the series like it is meandering from plot point to plot point. While the plot is, as I have said before, one that privileges the journey over the destination, when this is combined with forgettable villains, Stardust Crusaders can become a little difficult to watch.

Overall, Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure: Stardust Crusaders is a sequel that improves on a number of elements that its prequel parts struggled with but it can’t quite overcome its problems with pacing and minor antagonists. Despite its flaws, however, Stardust Crusaders is an anime about a bizarre journey that is really enjoyable to watch and stays with you long after you finish.