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Endings can make or break a piece of media. If done correctly, their legacy can be cemented in the pantheon of pop culture for ages to come. Conversely, community goodwill that’s been painstakingly built up for years can be undone in an instant.

With that said…it is with a heavy heart that I bring you this bad news: Pokémon got the Game of Thrones treatment. If you’ve never watched Game of Thrones or read up on the angry fan backlash that ensued after the final season was over, I’ll get straight to the point.

Ash’s final season was a pile of rotting, stinking dogshit

If you ... expect any questions to be answered, don’t bother.
If you expect Ash’s father to be revealed, don’t bother.
If you expect a showdown with Giovanni, don’t bother.
If you expect any shipping resolutions, don’t bother.
If you expect ANYTHING to happen, don’t bother.

Before the season aired, I was optimistic upon reading that Misty and Brock would return for Ash’s final season. Misty left the show permanently after Johto in one of Pokémon’s most emotional episodes, ‘Gotta Catch Ya Later!’. She went on to make multiple cameos over the years, but Mezase Pokémon Master (referred to as MPM from now on) was going to be the first season in 20 years in which the original trio would be reunited for a full season. My shrivelled boomer heart grew three sizes at the news. Fans celebrated, Pokeshippers blew their load, Serenabros were in shambles. My optimism only grew after I finished watching episode two which was (objectively) the best episode out of the lot. It featured an engaging battle, great humor, and fun interactions between Ash and Misty. Surprisingly, the ending of the episode seemed to imply that Ash wasn’t as dense as the bottom of the Mariana Trench when it came to girls like the past two decades made us believe. Promo material also suggested that most of Ash’s reserve Pokémon were going to be used for his grand send-off. The future looked bright.

Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end. The next several episodes consisted of bland Pokémon-of-the-day filler that didn’t even capitalize on showcasing the original trio’s bond. Hell, Misty barely spoke or did anything in episode 10. It’s almost impressive how badly they dropped the ball after episode two, because she and Brock basically became cardboard cut-outs. Ash has turned into a less interesting character over the last 26 years, so his plain characterization here was par-for-the-course. Team Rocket was…present. They had some forced drama by the end, but, like everything else in this series, it didn’t go anywhere. Don’t expect them to turn a new leaf. The status quo must remain supreme.

Had this been any other run-of-the-mill season, I would have given it a below average rating due to the tepid, disjointed storylines, the misuse of side characters, and the general lack of excitement (even my cat looks more animated about me writing this review than I am, and she’s napping). But as the epilogue season of Ash’s journey which has spanned more than 1000 episodes? Crime against humanity. Send it to the Hague.

That’s not to say MPM didn’t do anything right. Asides from episode two, episode eight was the only other that I found had any creative merit. Without spoiling anything, read Banette’s Emerald Pokedex entry: “An abandoned plush doll became this Pokémon. They are said to live in garbage dumps and wander about in search of the children that threw them away.” Trying to find out who was Banette’s original owner and why they abandoned their doll made for an effective children’s show tearjerker.

Another positive were the sparse moments of nostalgia that were executed well. Seeing Squirtle, Bulbasaur, Charizard, and friends reunited might elicit some smiles from 90’s kids. There were also call-backs to the earliest episodes of the franchise that were a nice touch from the creative director and his team (like Misty ‘catching’ Ash with her fishing rod again.) Also, if you’re a fan of Gary and/or Tracey, you might get a kick out of them being given a speaking role after years of silence.

Music was also a notable highlight. The absolute banger 1st OP ‘Mezase Pokémon Master’ is still as fantastic as ever; Ash’s story highlights were interspersed as the song played. While ‘One Hundred Fifty-One’ was the ED that played for most episodes, MPM used old favorites like ‘Face Forward Team Rocket!’, ‘Riding on Lapras’, ‘Takeshi's Paradise’, and the catchy ‘Type: Wild.’ Call me nit-picky all you want, but I think it was a miss from MPM’s director not to use ‘Meowth’s Song’ in the episode that heavily focused on him. Another solid aspect of the show was the BGM, which consisted of remixes of old songs from the first season; the songs themselves had enough subtlety not to completely overtake the *cough* story, but delicately accentuate key scenes.

MPM used a vivid color palette, with unassuming human character designs. Now, I did not expect Ash, Misty and Brock to look the same as their Indigo days, but their new designs are nothing to write home about either. This could have been easily overlooked if there was great cinematography, engaging camera shots, and awe-inducing battle choreography but…it doesn’t have that either. When Misty and Brock made their Sun and Moon cameos, they didn’t look any better, but their personalities shone through amusing facial reactions and cute banter with Ash. Frankly, animation-wise, it was a step back. Even more jarring, the final villain, who came out of nowhere, was dressed as a My Chemical Romance reject who somehow stumbled into stealing Pokémon for a living. Backgrounds were fine. Pokémon designs were stellar but they’re the same ‘mons that we grew up with.

Frankly speaking, the safe, open-ended nature of the ending was most likely planned just in case the new Pokémon series that airs next month (April 2023) bombs, and they can bring up Ash for a Brand New Journey! (all rights reserved). I’ll always be a Pokémon fan, even when I’m an old lady who’ll scare kids off her lawn with Cannibal Corpse blasting from her speakers, but this was still a massive disappointment. We fans deserved better.

So, what exactly did it mean to be a Pokémon Master? It was, unironically, the friends we made along the way.

Recommended to anyone with a desire to see the last innocent vestiges of their childhood crumble one by one.
…
Gotta Catch Em’ All!

I have endured plenty of physically painful events in my life. Getting four wisdom teeth removed without general anesthesia, grabbing onto a cactus as I was slipping off a mountain ledge, and almost drowning in my friend’s pool as a little girl all come to mind. However, all these are a mere blip on the radar compared to the excruciating experience of having to re-watch the entirety of School Days for this review.

I hope you’re happy, you sadists.

“Hey Sekai, having Kotonoha as a partner is kind of…tiring.” Makoto Itou, end of episode 3.

Before sinking my teeth into this anime, I would like to ... give it the kudos it deserves. Deconstructing an entire genre is no easy task. Turning tropes and character archetypes that are so prevalent in a specific genre and making something new out of them should be thoroughly commended. Like Neon Genesis Evangelion for mecha and Puella Magi Madoka Magica for magical girls, there is no other series quite like School Days within the plethora of school romance anime. It is unique. In a vast sea of mediocre and forgettable shows, how many can you say are absolutely one-of-a-kind?

And yet…

I could not give a single flying rat’s ass about anything or anyone onscreen.

In an unholy trinity of suck, the script, the characters and the plot perfectly unite to make it one of the most unpleasant anime viewing experiences I’ve had in recent times.

The dialogue is frustratingly monotonous. At best, the script is lifeless; at worst, it is sexist garbage. Don’t believe me? Let’s uncover some screenwriting ‘gems’ that School Days oh so graciously delivers to us.

Episode 2: “If Makoto were any other boy, he’d suddenly do this!” Sekai then goes on to fondle Kotonoha’s breasts from behind, ignoring her feeble protests.

Episode 5: “I said no… Not there! Mother will return soon!” Pained gasp. “No…I said.” Bed creaks. No further mention of these non-consensual sexual acts ever appears in the script again.

Episode 9: “Girls, regardless of the situation, need to be pushed,” Character A tells Character B, who proceeds to rape Character C three seconds later.

“I’m Makoto-kun’s girlfriend.” Kotonoha, every time she opens her mouth.

You get the gist.

School Days is a soap opera with all the trashy fun bled dry. As a pre-teen, I sometimes watched Mexican ‘telenovelas’ with my mom right after dinner. They're filled to the brim with hilariously bad dialogue, over-the-top characters, cheating left and right, nonsensical romantic storylines, and logical asspulls up the wazoo. Were they objectively bad? Yes. Do they look like Citizen Kane compared to School Days? Also yes.

Fanservice is used as an introductory tool for most of the female cast. A close-up of Setsuna’s underage ass as she runs is the first thing the audience sees of her. A lingering shot of Sekai’s exposed legs while wearing a shirt in bed appears twice in the same episode. Episode 5 is an all-you-can-eat buffet of ass, chest and crotch stills. Hell, we even get not one, not two, but (much to my absolute horror) THREE camera zooms of Taisuke’s package. In fact, let me propose a new drinking game: take a shot every time you see a close-up of Kotonoha’s jiggling breasts.

(Disclaimer: I absolve myself of any responsibility if you end up in the emergency room.)

There is a rape scene ham-fistedly thrown in for the added angst. What especially angers me about this sexual assault is not only its random placement and incorporation in the final episodes, but also the zero impact it has on the story. Rapist pins a disoriented female character against the wall. There are spots of blood on the floor of the classroom as the victim walks out in a daze. The rapist looks elated the day after, and no repercussions happen to him. As I’ve said in my Mirai Nikki review, rape scenes should only be added in a fictional work if it furthers a characterization or storyline purpose. The aforementioned scene did neither, so it comes across as tactless and crude.

Most reviews talk about what a deeply unlikable playboy Makoto is – and for good reason. He is a cheating, lying dirtbag. However, far less is said of how frighteningly sociopathic of a protagonist he really is. Less than ten minutes into the first episode, he assaults a female character by pushing her forcefully against a chain fence. He grabs her by the collar and later justifies his actions by blaming said female character for making him feel ‘flustered’. In episode 5, Makoto says he “can’t hold back anymore” and then gets on top of his resisting classmate. He sleeps with multiple girls in a single episode and has zero compassion for his girlfriend-of-the-day. Hell, he even cheats in full view of the rest of their class, then gaslights the girl he is currently dating. Villain protagonists need to have charisma – or other positive personal qualities – in order for the audience to sympathize with them. Makoto has all the charm of that ant I accidentally crushed on my way to work this morning. Unfortunately, the rest of the cast follow that same vein.

Sekai’s motivations make no damn sense. She makes it her life’s mission to play matchmaker for Kotonoha and Makoto, despite holding romantic feelings for the latter. Unlike Minori’s strong loyalty for Taiga in Toradora, it remains a mystery why Sekai sacrifices her own happiness at every turn. She is not friends with either of them before they start dating. There is no backstory that explains her issues. Nada. Furthermore, she also sabotages that blooming relationship she sets up…and then tries to get those two to stay together after the fallout. Wash, rinse and repeat. A chronic manipulator with no end goal, only hurt feelings. She would be a somewhat more interesting character if half her lines didn’t solely consist of the word ‘baka’. You know the type.

I would call Kotonoha a doormat but that would be an insult to doormats everywhere. A good doormat clears off the sludge on your shoes, come rain or shine. Kotonoha acts like she had a lobotomy as a child and only has the word ‘sorry’ in her vocabulary. I rest my case.

If I start ranting about the walking annoyance that is Taisuke, my keyboard would melt. I don’t want to start taking anti-hypertension medication, so I’ll leave it at that.

Setsuna is the best character, but since the cast also includes a wallflower, a rapist, and an abusive fuckboy, that is weak praise. Is she a memorable character? No. She is an emotionless, sarcastic loli stereotype…and an emotionless, sarcastic loli stereotype is just the thing that is needed to cut through the anime’s bullcrap. Unfortunately, like the rest of the female cast, she is not immune to the strange allure of Makoto’s cock.

There are other characters in School Days, but best of luck trying to remember their names. However, there really is no need to expend any mental energy. They are all Makoto’s sidechicks with interchangeable hairstyles. That’s about as memorable of a description I can manage for them.

Color palette looks washed out. School Days came out in 2007, but there are 90’s shows that look more polished and presentable than this series (Revolutionary Girl Utena sends her regards). Character designs range from the basic to the unappealing; if Taisuke had a longer nose, he would be an anteater. Anatomical proportions are way off in several scenes, especially when people are in the kitchen or when characters are seen from a distance. Scenery is present. It has colors and shapes. Viewers can see School Days takes place in a school. Nothing more to say.

Most of the camera work is unexceptional except for two instances. A fish-eyed camera angle of Kotonoha denotes the darker turning point of the anime (beginning of episode 4). The second half of Episode 12 has the best cinematography; the director clearly had fun with some of those shots.

The soundtrack is composed of dull synth tracks and pithy piano pieces that I have already forgotten despite listening to them ten seconds ago. The sound design is like a late 90’s throwback of those personal GeoCities websites’ MIDI tracks that took twenty minutes to load on a dial-up modem. At least Episode 3’s ED changes into something more melancholic, and the singer’s voice is an improvement. The OP is upbeat but unremarkable. Voice-acting is…passable, I suppose. No one sounds like a newbie voice actor, so I can begrudgingly give the anime a bronze star sticker for that.

Finally…the infamous ending. Just in case the hermit living in a cavern in the Himalayas wants to watch School Days one day, I will not spoil it. Suffice to say, it is the one and only reason why I did not give the anime the 2/10 I strongly believe it deserves. Given the dreadful cast, the uninspired writing, and comatose plot, the ending is incredibly cathartic and enjoyable. Is it good enough to watch School Days from beginning to end? Absolutely not, and anyone who tries to convince you otherwise is likely Satan in disguise.

*insert obligatory and overused ‘nice boat’ joke*

Recommended wholeheartedly to the pick-up artists and red pill communities. Congratulations, guys, you finally got an anime made for you!

What makes an effective psychological horror? Is it the claustrophobic ambiance evoked, your deepest fears that writhe in the deepest crevices of your mind unveiled, or perhaps the dawning of existential dread crawling up your spine, as you realize you will one day die? “Sure, all of them work,” I would have said two days ago. But that was the old me; she is now dead and buried, being feasted on by worms. No, the new me has seen a comedy anime that inadvertently threw away all my ancient preconceptions on what constituted truly disturbing horror out the window.

Welcome to the fucked up world ... of Jingai-san no Yome.

Oh sure, the cover photo looks cutesy. A demure teenage boy sitting awkwardly with his sentient throw rug of a monster sidekick, right? Maybe we can expect some light-hearted isekai shenanigans or a tale about the importance of friendship and rainbows. I, too, used to be that naïve, dear reader. Now prepare to kiss away the last remnants of your innocence, because this is actually the story of a boy forced into sexual slavery to a reject abominable snowman.

From its first episode all the way to its uncomfortable conclusion, my face was contorted into a silent scream, madness dawning in my eyes. Elementary and high school boys are chosen by monsters to become their “wives”. Why the series refers to them as wives instead of husbands will remain one of the universe’s unresolved mysteries. In this chilling society, schools serve as de-facto marriage-arranging companies. Each student’s homeroom teacher informs them of their grim fate with a smile, the kids’ loud protests ignored. They marry these strange creatures, and live in a house funded by the government. If suspicions arise that the marriages are fake, students must submit proof of their commitment to the ward office. I am not making any of this shit up.

Jingai-san no Yome tries to present itself as a wacky romcom, but I could see right through the facade. No joke lands, its slapstick fails, and every romantic moment destroys the last remaining pieces of my hope for humanity. Despite not having a trace of world-building, I still needed answers. Normally, when a story has a sloppy presentation of its setting, I will quickly lose interest. Not so here. Hundreds of questions bubbled up within me as I completed episode after episode. Where are their parents? What do first-year students do in their school’s ‘Wives Club’? Why are girls never chosen as partners for these monsters? Why is child bestiality so widely accepted in this world? Does God stay in heaven because he too lives in fear of what he has created?

I remind you all that this anime is one of the very few that focuses on married life. Let that sink in. To my eternal dismay, plenty of romantic scenes abound. Thankfully, it is all PG-13, or I might have had to jump off a bridge. However, the rating still does not completely blunt the blow, for what the audience sees is enough to raise goosebumps all over their flesh. In episode 5, we see the main character, Hinowa, taking a bath with his monster husband, Kanenogi. He looks at his lover’s tail, eyes glistening, cheeks bright red as if kissed by a cherub. He jumps out of the tub as if struck by lightning, hastily readjusting the towel around his hips. Someone call 911, I’m going into cardiac arrest.

The rest of the characters are introspective, deep, and charismatic, in much the same way like roadkill rotting under the sun is. Other monster husbands appear in the series: a mummy with a crude smiley face drawn on, a balding pig with a Japanese conical hat, and two bat-like humanoid twins wearing red stockings. It is a shame Shakespeare died so early, for he would have written countless sonnets about their love.

Animation looks like it was done on a shoestring budget, but I suppose there was some creativity involved in the monster design. Kanenogi looks like a Wampa from Star Wars finally deciding on settling down. He wasn’t getting any in Hoth. Hinowa’s design is rather hideous; he looks as if he got a haircut at a slaughterhouse. Other male characters’ designs look interchangeable except for their hair. For example, one kid has long red hair and the other looks like a backup dancer from NSYNC’s heydays. Voice acting is passable. Deku’s (from My Hero Academia) voice actor was cast for the main lead’s role; I sure hope his agent knows what s/he is doing. OST is disappointing. Instead of the more thematically fitting demonic choir from Hell chants, we get cookie-cutter pop songs and uninspired synth tracks.

As for the ending…well…Stockholm syndrome has kicked in for good. Very sad.

Recommended only to brave motherfuckers with huge ovaries/balls of steel. Your courage inspires us all.

Cutesy, funny, and sometimes delivering skillfully on those emotional beats, Sora Yori Mo Tooi Basho has too much unnecessary melodrama and plot contrivances for me to call it a slice of life masterpiece. Yet, its undeniable strength in conveying the thrill of adventure, the wonder of exploration, and the steely determination needed to pursue nigh-impossible dreams, is masterclass.

The script’s strength lies in its dialogue during humorous moments, from its one-liners (“They’ve probably been on boats so long, their semicircular canals are busted.”) to the free-flowing conversations that highlight the characters’ personalities. Director Atsuko Ishizuka did an outstanding job at making me chuckle. Her comedic ... timing and directing are worthy of praise, especially when comedy anime – at most – only make me forcibly blow out air from my nose in mild amusement.
A hilarious example from episode 4 displays the superb comedic directing:

Kimari needs her mom’s permission to take time off from school to go to Antarctica and – in a stroke of teenage brilliance – decides to forge her signature. Kimari is unsure if her mom (Youko) found out, but she assumes her mom’s demeanor is calm (the camera focuses on her back as she cooks, her expression unseen). Not only is Kimari woefully wrong, her actions cause her mom to summon Satan himself. Mrs. Tamaki rushes her with her ladle before she has time to explain herself. Kimari runs for dear life, her figure running straight for the camera down a hallway; she smashes headfirst into the door, but, from our perspective, her cheeks press up against the camera’s lens. Dad arrives from work at that precise moment, takes one good look at the impending carnage, and backs away slowly. “Forgive me, my daughter!” he shouts as he holds the door shut from the outside, Kimari desperately screaming for help. It’s left up to our imagination what horrors she endures. Not only did it make me laugh, but I have re-watched this short scene countless times to appreciate its editing, cinematography, sound design, script, and character chemistry.

I will fight anyone until my dying breath in saying that best part of SoraYori is, ironically, in the episodes prior to their big trip, when the tonal pulse is more lighthearted and amusing. Many instances highlight the series’ strong comedic timing, but I will restrain myself and give only one more example (episode 2):
Hinata: “If you can still turn back, it’s not really a journey. When you hit the point of no return, that’s the moment it becomes a journey.”
Kimari: Wow that sounds like a quote! Who said it originally?
Hinata: *immediately replies* ME!
Kimari: *after a beat* Oh.

The creators did an impressive amount of research for the anime – and it clearly shows. Singapore’s landmarks, cuisine and skylines (like the balcony shot from Marina Bay Sands) are expertly recreated. Someone cook me some Hainanese chicken rice and kaya toast before I start gnawing on my computer screen. The pre-trip preparation the girls go through is also accurate, such as learning how to use walkie-talkies, route-mapping or flag-setting correctly.

However, as we all know, Antarctica is the real star here. According to an interview posted on SoraYori’s official website, the crew received help from the National Institute of Polar Research and the Japanese Maritime Self-Defense Force. Director Ishizuka also asked previous expedition members about their daily lives in Antarctica and gathered many pictures from Showa Station (both inside and outside). Anime depicts the Penguin Manju exactly like its real life counterpart, Shirase AGB-5003, such as its ice-breaking capabilities. Once they get closer to Antarctica, the boat rocks harder due to the extremely strong current (no land mass impeding it). Rules about Japanese Antarctica expeditions are also correct; East Ongul Island is the only place Japan can go due to the rules being set up after the Second World War. Researchers in real life also set up solar panels, gather seawater to analyze bacteria, and conduct geological surveys. Frankly, the attention to detail is phenomenal.

One of the most prevalent themes in SoraYori is escapism as a coping mechanism to life’s struggles. Running away feels like a fantastic solution when we come face-to-face with our own personal faults. Unlike shows like Welcome to the NHK and Neon Genesis Evangelion, SoraYori does not condemn escaping the pain of existence, since it can potentially serve as a tool for personal growth. While my philosophical stance on the matter is the opposite (avoidance only prolongs our existential dread), I still found it unique to see how characters filled the void in their hearts by traveling to the ends of the Earth.

Although Kimari Tamaki is my least favorite main character, her character arc is one of the most meaningful in the narrative. Kimari starts as an anxiety-ridden girl that focuses on possible negative outcomes all too much. Filled with regrets about not doing anything exciting in her life, she strives for change but self-sabotages any attempt. Her family views her as lazy, whose room needs a bright yellow hazards sign. Nevertheless, she is also very idealistic and jumps onboard Shirase’s idea to go to Antarctica, despite her classmates shunning her. Her journey for greater self-confidence and independence is believable, although I find her annoying as a person.

Before SoraYori fans find out where I am hiding, I will focus on dramatic moments that worked for me. Succinctly put, every sad scene having to do with Shirase. Her mother’s disappearance molded her into becoming a girl full of determination with a clear vision of the future. Her single-minded, obsessive pursuit of her dream makes her an outcast among her peers, and she does not give a single fuck. Shirase never gives up, and her attitude is certainly inspirational to us viewers. Is it any surprise that she is my favorite character in the anime? Takako and Shirase’s bond is shown through flashbacks and memories, and if my heart were not made of cold steel, I probably would have shed some tears.
Shirase: “But once we get there, there is nowhere left to go. If I go and nothing changed, I think…I’m going to spend the rest of my life feeling this way.”
Her reaction to stepping onto Antarctica for the first time is memorable. It is a fat middle finger to everyone that doubted her. It is emotionally stirring and relatable because we all have dreams, some more difficult to achieve than others. While there are individuals who never even try because they find it too impossible, the anime grabs the viewer by the shoulders and insists that the struggle is worth it.

Unfortunately, the serious scenes, more often than not, made me roll my eyes. The series wastes a great amount of time on trivialities instead of naturally unfolding drama in Antarctica. The girls are only in Antarctica for a scant five episodes, but not every scene is as impactful as I would have wanted. Episode 11’s melodrama actually made me wonder if I could be doing something more entertaining instead – like cleaning up my cat’s puke-covered hairballs or making an appointment with my gynecologist. There are two major reasons why the drama lost me on several occasions: the cause of the conflict and unrealistic character reactions.

“But BurntFlower,” the voices in my head argue, “you were once a teenage girl! Surely you can remember what that was like, right?” Of course, and no one wants to see that shit. I am confident that you would all gulp down a bottle of bleach over watching me cry about the time my Neopets account got frozen. A large chunk of the anime’s drama occurs when the plot dictates that the girls should be sobbing or shouting at each other. I could connect with Shirase more easily, because her problems are far graver in comparison to those of her friends. Takako’s disappearance also has a harrowing effect on several secondary characters and my heart went out to them. Forgive me for thinking that sobbing over a lost passport does not translate to compelling television. Another instance of forced drama happens in the aforementioned episode 11: Character A snoops through Character B’s emails because Character B is acting strangely. Character B enters the room at that exact moment and catches Character A in the act. Uh oh, conflict! Rinse and repeat.

Maybe I would have empathized more with their dilemmas if they did not have overblown reactions. They scream out their emotions loudly and cry gallons of tears. People hide hurt feelings with a smile and a laugh, and get upset when their peers take their façade at face value. There is plenty of kicking large piles of snow and frustrating passive-aggressiveness. While it did not reach soap opera levels of melodrama, I would not have been surprised if the line, “ME HAS TRAICIONADO, MALDITA PUTA!” had been uttered at some point.

Whereas I found that spectacle irritating, one character’s entire being brought my overall enjoyment crashing down – Megumi. She perfectly encapsulates the show’s weaknesses in one bespectacled package. Episode 5 needs to wear cement shoes and jump into the ocean. I will not reveal why I hate her guts because that would require me to go into spoiler territory, but every time the show depicts her in a sympathetic light, I cringed. The narrative’s positive portrayal of Kimari and Megumi’s friendship made my blood boil. Did I understand the motivation behind her actions? Sort of. Does that mean I have to like her? Hell no.

Another overarching theme is the need to forge genuine friendships in an inauthentic society. Is there such a thing as a true self? Are real relationships with other people possible if we are all prone to lying? No other character finds this ontological dilemma more disconcerting than Hinata Miyake. Bubbly and extroverted, smart enough to graduate high school early, and a lovable walking contradiction. Great at being the voice of reason, except when it comes to her own problems. Loathes shallow relationships, but wears a metaphorical mask to hide her real feelings. Puts others’ wellbeing over her own, but hates people belittling her. Do not get me wrong, I am not disparaging her character, I am praising how real she felt to me.

While Hinata’s struggles are all about her defiance to societal conformity, Shiraishi Yuzuki longs for connection in an alienating world. She never had any friends growing up because she was always acting. Succumbing to her mother’s influence, Shiraishi has been adrift in a sea of self-negation and powerlessness. When she got into high school, she wanted to make friends, but people only saw her as a celebrity, not a self-realized individual. It is in her rebellion to the absurdity of her own loss of control (represented by her agent-mother), she finally becomes true to herself and finds friends. While her characterization revolves around the importance of friendship, she did not feel as fleshed out as the other girls, although I liked her quite a fair bit.

Supporting characters are notable as well. Todo Gin is a strict, straightforward, and fair captain, whose past still haunts her. Despite being close friends (or more?) with Takako, Shirase and Todo never talked a lot, an unspoken distance between them. How their relationship unfolds on their trip to Antarctica is noteworthy. There are other secondary characters, but they ranged from great comic relief (Kimari’s family), to exposition providers (Kanae), or forgettable extras (that dude who is in love with Gin).

Character designs are not very memorable and seem slightly out of place in their incredibly detailed, lush set pieces. Given people in this universe are awash in a pale color palette with jarring white highlights, the world around them stands in a vivacious, colorful contrast to them. Some would argue that this artistic choice is necessary in order to make Antarctica all the more vibrant and alive. However, while the backgrounds are a sight for sore eyes, the characters should have had that stylistic oomph instead – especially in a character driven work like SoraYori. Art design preference aside, Madhouse delivered consistently in the animation front, which accentuated the magic of discovery. One of the most breathtaking scenes in the anime is when the girls see a sun pillar – an optical illusion caused by ice pillars – which lights up the sky in an amazing array of orange and red hues. Excellent. Well-implemented CGI is evident in their trip to the museum, boat, trains, giving them that rustic, almost cyberpunk look.

I cannot say I liked either the OP or ED. They are both so sugary-sweet I feared I was going to become pre-diabetic. However, let me reveal my bias here, dear reader. I listen solely to metal, and anything less than a demonic growl unearthed from the deepest bowels of hell sounds too soft for me. Hence, your mileage may vary. Frankly, I enjoyed the OST much more. Episode 5 has some of my favorite tracks; there is a lovely piano piece that sounds suspiciously like the beginning of ‘Close to You’ by The Carpenters. A pleasant guitar tune accompanies Kimari leaving home and preparing for her long trip abroad. A Jaws-lite theme song and stock scream effects play at the right times in comedic moments. As for the voice actors, I would say they all do a respectable job at bringing their characters to life. I know you can all sense the unspoken ‘but’ in my previous sentence, so I’ll cut the BS: Kimari’s high-pitched voice drove me up a wall.

Fortunately, the ending did not disappoint in the slightest. It wraps everything up in a satisfying way, the tone is appropriate, the dialogue is effective, and it pulls on one’s heartstrings…except for the final shot. I can admit that moe shows and me are like oil and water; shake us all you want, we will never mix well. Nevertheless, Sora Yori Mo Tooi Basho is more than a tolerable experience…it is one worthy of being remembered.

Recommended to people who would be willing to sacrifice their first-born child just for a chance at cuddling a bunch of penguins in the middle of nowhere. Fair trade, mate.

B-tier horror movies can be quite fun. Filled with exaggerated acting, ridiculous scripts, and gratuitous gore, films like ‘Attack of the Killer Tomatoes’ are a riot to watch with friends. Unfortunately, unlike those movies, Tokyo Ghoul failed to embrace its schlocky identity and pretended to be as serious as a heart attack.

Before developing a sad case of personality disorder, the anime was quite enjoyable. When the opening shot is of a purple-haired woman cackling maniacally, bathing, and drinking blood atop a pile of bodies, I knew I was in for a campy ride. After all, the DVD cover features Kaneki wearing a knock-off Bane ... mask with a painted-on Cheshire grin. The first four episodes all but confirmed it. Delicious ham-and-cheese dialogue. Over-the-top expressions. The story’s main location is a coffee shop run by ghouls. A party of mask-wearing ghouls gush enthusiastically – almost with orgasmic delight – after smelling a blood-covered napkin. An obese, scarf-wearing minion with a lisp becomes the main dish at a banquet. Later on, a certain character steals a motorcycle and uses it to launch himself straight into the second floor of a building filled with ghouls. Laughing hysterically, he kills them all with an assault rifle as the motorcycle lands on the ground. Cue explosion. All these scenes are the distilled essence of Tokyo Ghoul: shocking, prurient and amusing. When the anime decided to transform into a drama, it became a tedious chore to keep on watching. Fortunately, not all was lost.

One particular character knew exactly in what kind of anime he was in, and, thus, single-handedly stole the show. Wearing an exquisite blood-red suit and sporting a très chic blue coif, Tsukiyama’s introduction is as understated as a bull in a china shop. In a scene dripping with homoerotic subtext, he sniffs Kaneki and says he smells wonderful. His eccentric mannerisms and awful French are c'est magnifique. Writers poured all their creativity into his dialogue and I could not get enough. At one point, without a trace of irony, he says, “I happen to taste very good” as he suggestively licks his lips. FORTISSIMO! Not only is Tsukiyama entertaining to watch, he is a strong, agile fighter and a worthy adversary. I sincerely wished he had been in more episodes.

However, all good things must come to an end. A dull narrative tone and uninspired script take over, repeating the blatantly obvious to the audience. Crystal-clear scenes that anyone possessing two neurons to rub together could understand, spelled out like a particularly bad Dora the Explorer episode. For example, Nishio (a ghoul) is casually chatting with his roommate, Hide (a human), as they eat together in episode two. Kaneki thinks, “I think it’s safe to assume that nobody suspects him of being a ghoul…” Thanks for that, I was so lost. While I might come across as overly harsh, my bluntness is a result of the story’s overindulgence in blatant exposition. The audience could clearly see that Nishio and Hide were wrapped up in their conversation, had easygoing smiles, and their body language was relaxed. There was no need for Kaneki’s thoughts to chime in unnecessarily, when a slightly surprised look would have sufficed. Writers either mixed up the classic refrain ‘show, don’t tell’, or they believed that the audience barely had a collective double-digit IQ. There were also a few ham-fisted, superficial themes comparing the ethical quandaries between ghouls eating humans versus people devouring cows and pigs. Some ghouls look down on humans for eating multiple species to survive whereas they only eat one. These scenes bludgeon the morality to the head with all the subtlety and nuance of an explosive enema.

Dialogue timing is also off. Characters give Hamlet-length monologues as they have their defenseless foe lying right in front of them. Mado talks about the different ghoul types’ weaknesses and strengths during a battle – which he himself is fighting. While the ghoul tries to rip him apart, he tells them what type they are; it comes across as unnatural. Koutarou Amon waits until a ghoul he knocks back to stand up before attacking again. What a gentleman. After the ghoul gains his bearings again, he goes on to ask why ghouls are so mean and evil and yadda, yadda, yadda… It interrupts the flow of the story and destroys all sense of tension.

The anime’s second half desperately tries to make us care for secondary characters that barely have any screen time. Casualties start to pile up on both sides of the human vs. ghouls war. Tokyo Ghoul wants the audience to feel sympathetic over both groups. As the episodes progressed, more minor characters die tragically. Yet, episodes 7 and 8 were some of the blandest episodes I ever had to sleep through. One certain character who had, at most, two conversations on-screen is murdered. The music, tone, direction, cinematography all try to present this as tragic. I drowsily close my eyes. After napping for five minutes, I blearily try to pay attention to a new scene. Instead of outright destroying him, Touka asks one of the antagonists why he killed her acquaintance. My eyelids start to feel like lead again. There is a lot of crying, screaming and mourning. I struggle to remember who the hell died. An anime has significant characterization problems if I feel more emotionally invested in episode 9's pet parrot being washed up in the rain, than half its cast.

As if that were not bad enough, the anime had the brilliant idea to tack on even more characters in the last three episodes. Given their uncanny resemblance to a clown car cavalcade, I will not bother with their names. After all, I will grant them the same amount of respect the anime gave them. We got the new Aogiri Tree ghouls like Blue-Haired Edge Lord, Angry Crescent-Moon Beard Guy, Mr. and Ms. Mummy Sidekicks, and the Rainbow Vault Dwellers. The CCG also had new faces like Mop Brush Bob, Oily Hair McSlick, That Other Dude, and Weird Billy the Scarecrow. The latter was the only one who was somewhat interesting. As for everybody else, it would be a miracle if I remember their faces ten minutes after I finish writing this review. Fortunately, it was not all bleak in the character department. Tokyo Ghoul did have a handful of characters that I cared about.

Kaneki steadfastly wants to retain the last shreds of his humanity, his inner fight at times both engrossing and annoying to watch. He cries and shouts about his all-consuming need for human flesh. Yet, when this moral quandary came up, I could not help but ask myself, ‘Why would eating human flesh be equivalent to throwing away his humanity?’ Before you all side-eye me, let me remind you that history is full of instances of people committing cannibalism under extreme, dangerous circumstances. In 1972, a Uruguayan rugby team had to resort to cannibalism after their plane crashed into the Andes Mountains. Obviously, I felt sympathy for him when he wondered if he had to murder people in order to survive…but eating corpses overcame that obstacle quite quickly. Nonetheless, he continues refusing and screams some more, and so my pity for him…dwindled.

Kaneki is, at times, quite the boring character, but not for the reasons you might think. There is nothing wrong with quiet, introspective, and deeply intelligent characters. In fact, I liked his shy and bookish qualities. Some of his best scenes involved him teaching a little girl, Hinami, advanced kanji. The way his eyes lit up at the mention of his favorite author, Takatsuki Sen, and his enthusiasm over the delicate prose in ‘Monochrome of Rainbows’ genuinely made me smile. It’s the English major in me. At times, he would agree with Touka when she said he was useless, but he is not as self-loathing as other similar characters before him. No, my main problem with Kaneki is that for someone who is as introverted and well-read as he is, his thoughts can be quite dumb and monotonous. As mentioned earlier, he is one of the worst offenders in pointing out the obvious. He narrates events, those recently unfolded just seconds beforehand, but with no flair. No pizzazz. No unique insight. Or worse, with downright stupidity. Take one of Kaneki’s worst bits of introspection from episode 8 as an example:

“Ghouls are stirring up trouble in this world…is that really true?” They are killing people, so I would say that’s affirmative, Chief. “Ghouls have feelings too. Just like humans. Why can’t humans see that part of us?” Hard for them to see that part when they are getting their faces eaten off. “Why don’t they try to understand. It’s something so obvious, so simple…” Tell that to yourself five episodes ago when you were lambasting ghouls. “I’m the only who can realize it. Only me, the human….” Let’s forget the human-ghoul relationships that have been mentioned several times before in the narrative, shall we? While Kaneki has some characterization issues, he is not alone.

Sadly, there are very few female characters with any real development in the story. I became exasperated at seeing yet another woman becoming a damsel-in-distress or a victim to spur the heroes on. Touka might be the one and only exception in the female character arc department. She has some tsundere qualities in the beginning, but starts caring for Kaneki by the end. Sure, she beats him up when he complains about his newfound half-ghoul identity for the millionth time, but she puts her life on the line for her friends. Her cold and ruthless personality is one forged out of desire for vengeance. She is also one of the stronger ghouls in the show, which I appreciate. I wish the story showed other facets to her personality, as well as fleshed out her backstory, but…alas.

Rize is the only other major female character in the show…and she is barely on screen. Despite that, her mysterious backstory and persona drives the plot for the last couple of episodes. She is sadistic, bloodthirsty, manipulative, and takes great delight in pointing out Kaneki’s weaknesses, “Whose fault is it that things ended up like this? Coincidence? Accident? Fate? There is no such thing as fate. It is simply a combination of one’s circumstance. And who creates those circumstances. Who? It’s you.” While she is an important character, and much of her true story hasn’t been revealed yet, I couldn’t care less about her. Despite having more screen time in the last few episodes, she still remained as flat as an iron board.

Yoriko, Hinami, and Hide serve as sentimental catalysts for the main characters. Kaneki and Hinami bond over their love for literature, particularly the short story ‘Showers at Sunset’. As mentioned earlier, their brother-sister bonding were some of the scenes I liked the most in the anime. She does not have much of a personality, asides from being a sweet pacifist who likes to read. Hide is the total opposite of Kaneki: loud, brash, and outgoing –and yet, they have been best friends since childhood. It is a shame that the plot shafted him. Lastly, there is Yoriko, Touka’s dear friend. She cooks her food that makes her want to hurl. That’s about it for her.

There are other characters in Tokyo Ghoul, but I either wanted to kick their ass (like Nishio), preferred to get a root canal done over watching them speak (like detective Koutarou Amon), or hoped that they would fall into an active volcano (like Mado or Jason). Are they all vital characters to the plot? Absolutely. Did I like them? I would jump at an opportunity to shoot them straight into the surface of the sun.

While Tokyo Ghoul’s characterization and narrative structure is subpar, the cinematography sure is not. There are some breathtaking wide shots here, such as a villain juxtaposed against a psychedelic, multicolor aquarium with koi fish and water gushing out in the first episode. Or how about that vast field of white carnations blooming blood-red? Not only does the show have wonderful visuals, its camera angles and choreography are also something to write home about. The last fight was impressive, adrenaline inducing, and had some astounding high-angled POV shots plus low, tight camera angles during an incoming attack.

I want to marry the OP, ‘Unravel’. It has a great piano piece, coupled with an electric guitar using a fuzz pedal distortion effect. By the middle of the song, the drummer builds up a crescendo, just as the string ensemble delivers magnificently. The singer’s – Toru Kitajima’s – voice is full of grief and pain, as he belts out powerfully, “In this twisted world, I’m gradually growing transparent and vanishing. /Don’t look for me; don’t look at me. /I don’t wish to hurt you in someone else’s imaginary world. /Remember who I am.” Not only does the OP have strong lyrics and musical composition, the graphics are fantastic. The characters all stand on a surface gorgeously reflecting the sky, like the Bolivian salt flats during rainy season. I would even be bold enough to say that this is one of the best OPs in the last 10 years.

Asides from that musical gem, the OST is quite strong. There are beautiful classical instrumentals with haunting vocals during tense moments. Industrial, Nine Inch Nails-lite music plays when ghouls and humans are fighting. Unfortunately, not everything is stellar. A man who sounds like he took a swig of whiskey, and popped a handful of Xanax, before an intern hurriedly thrust him into the recording booth, sings the ED. As he croons, Deviantart fanart flashes on-screen (but not like the crappy Pokémon drawings I made in sixth grade, more like the pretty ones shown on Daily Deviations). Competent voice actors star in Tokyo Ghoul, but Mamoru Miyano did a standout performance as Tsukiyama. Simply phenomenal.

Tokyo Ghoul ends on a cliffhanger. Had there not been any future seasons, I would have deemed this a complete waste of time. Given that there are sequels, I deem this a partial waste of time.

With that important knowledge in hand, the important question I pose to all three of you reading this review and myself is the following:

Does this cliffhanger make viewers want to watch future seasons?
The biggest compliment I can give Tokyo Ghoul is that, despite its many flaws, I can answer: “Yeah, sure, why the hell not?”

Recommended to anyone interested in watching a grim struggle for survival between ghouls and huma– OSHIEEETEEEE YOOO OSHIEEEETEEEE YOOO/SONO SHIKUMI WOOOOO/BOKU NO NAKA NIIIIIII/DARE GA IRU NOOOO?

Like fossilized dinosaur dung, Mirai Nikki is composed of layers upon layers of shit – its original substance long since replaced with bad writing, laughable characterization, and jaw-dropping leaps of logic. It requires an observant eye and boundless patience to analyze its lousy script, but if done properly, one will be rewarded with solid guidelines on how not to write an anime.

Mirai Nikki’s internal consistency is shot. It is supposed to be a dark thriller with shounen elements that is unafraid to present moral and ethical dilemmas to its characters in their pursuit of godhood. It does not act like one. Life-threatening injuries ... are brushed off easily in this universe. A slice to the throat might as well be a paper cut. Characters are gutted like a turkey at a Thanksgiving dinner, and still manage to give lengthy Shakespearean monologues or pull off Olympic-level feats of strength and agility. The plot’s will is paramount, and death means nothing to these characters unless the story deigns it so. For example, one particular character is completely beheaded, yet they are still able to walk several steps in a straight line, perfectly upright, (holding a cellphone all the while) before collapsing. Mirai Nikki cannot decide whether it wants to be a dark psychological thriller or an over-the-top edgy comedy/shounen hybrid, so it tries to be both. In doing so, it collapses.

Due to the aforementioned identity crisis, an uneven narrative tone plagues Mirai Nikki. There is a swimsuit segment in the middle of episode three. Episode 13 presents us with a yuri-bait hot springs scene. A remote-controlled pack of dogs equipped with mechanical razor-sharp teeth is the main threat in episode eight. None of the series’ absurdity and unintentional humor would bother me if Mirai Nikki were a comedy/action popcorn flick. Hell, I would readily accept its campiness with open arms. Yet, it wants me to be emotionally invested in its violence, dysfunctional cast and tragedy for the majority of the time. I completely understand the need for moments of levity in an otherwise somber work. After all, a continuous, overpowering grisly tone is in danger of making viewers feel desensitized.

Nevertheless, out-of-place comedy and fanservice ruins the grim atmosphere. Its poor execution interrupts the flow of the story and causes pacing issues. Overlooking these tonal missteps would be easier if they happened infrequently, but they pop up so often that I can continue giving examples. In episode 16, Yuki’s dad comes into his room and sees him on the floor with a woman sitting on his back; she is adding extra weight to his pushup. The man enthusiastically screams to her, “Go ahead! Ride me, too!” as he gets on all fours, ass up in the air. Brilliant psychological thriller you got there, Mirai Nikki. Scenes like these drove me up a wall, and usually happened right before or after a brutal murder. It grinds the story to a screeching halt.

As if the misplaced comedy were not messy enough, we also have unnecessary fanservice to deal with. Yuno is the worst offender of the lot; at one point, she tries to murder several characters wearing only a white bra and undies. In another episode, she has a requisite shower scene. We get a close-up of Yuno’s breasts as she bashfully comments on how small her bikini is, which is then promptly washed away. Cue the upbeat, wacky music. Did I get tricked into watching an ecchi romcom? Unfortunately, she is not the only female character that is subjected to this. The camera lewdly focuses on underage girls’ panty shots. Hinata has her shorts ‘humorously’ pulled down in her first appearance. A male character falls on top of a woman and accidentally grabs her breasts. Very original stuff. This would all be pretty annoying and immersion-breaking as it is, but the director does something far more egregious and unforgivable.

Gang rape is used for gratuitous shock factor and to garner sympathy points from the audience. Rape as a backstory needs to be done very carefully, otherwise it comes across as insensitive and tasteless. Frivolous rape scenes that add nothing to characterization or plot progression are insulting to the characters and to the audience as a whole. One of these scenes did not exist in the original manga. Had this gang rape been taken out entirely, this character would act the same as they always did. It served no purpose to the plot. Shame on director Naoto Hosoda for the exploitative shots and anyone involved in adding this to the anime.

Yuki Amano’s character development is bumpier than Cedar Point’s roller coasters. Yuki starts the show as completely and utterly weak. He passively overlooks Yuno’s stalker tendencies to keep himself alive. Flirtations from the girl he likes turn him into a puddle of tears. He ponders how a loser like him is still alive. He would even go as far as to beg his rivals to, “give [his] death some meaning.” It is never really explained why he had all these emotional hang-ups other than his parents’ divorce. I prayed to the storyboard gods they would pull an Old Yeller and put him out of his misery.

Then, a miracle happened.

The boy who would cry at the drop of a hat, charged straight into a fire, hatchet in hand, to save a girl. He made friends who genuinely cared about him. In another episode, Yuno collapses after fighting an enemy, and he gives her CPR. Not only was he becoming braver as the story progressed, he was also gaining confidence in himself. Yuki’s emotional growth was – dare I say it? – a strong factor that kept me watching the show. The same person who I had written off as a complete dud. By the midpoint of the series, I was hesitantly rooting for him. We even had an important conversation illustrating how far he has come:

Yuki: “Don’t you want to become happier than this? You’re one hell of a stalker who followed me for a year, right? You’re going to become my bride, right?”
Yuno: “If it won’t come true…th-then I want you to live at least!”
Yuki: “You idiot! Don’t give up like that! I will make you happy! We’re going back. Even if you give up, I won’t! I’m not giving up. Because… I love Yuno, too.”

I felt vindicated. Pushing aside Yuki’s messy feelings for Yuno (which I will get to later), this was the peak of Yuki’s character development. He showed guts, positivity, and assertiveness. Unfortunately, the same guy who made that heroic speech, says the following three episodes later: “What could I have done?! I know I’m scum… I know I am… But I’m weak.” Moments of weakness are fine; we are all human. I still had hope…but it was all for naught. Without spoiling anything, the last couple of episodes cement his complete decay. By the end, his positive qualities are dragged into a sketchy back-alley, beaten up with rusty drainpipes, and then shot in the head execution-style. Ladies and gentlemen, let us give a moment of silence to his nascent character development. I’m still mourning.

Yuno Gasai is the villain protagonist that the plot wants us to cheer for. Her psychopathy and obsession for Yuki are iconic. The main reason a lot of us, myself included, went into the show was to see her crazy self in action. While her lust for murder and Yuki’s cock are entertaining to watch, she lacks any real depth. Her main problem lies on her stunted character growth – she remains her same empathy-lacking, love-stricken, bloodthirsty self for the entirety of the anime’s run. Being Yuki’s bride is her only long-term goal and personal motivation. How can she be a decent female character if her agency and self-worth solely revolves around a guy? Without being hyperbolic, a large chunk of her dialogue is calling out her crush’s name. I watched patiently, hoping that a good explanation for Yuno’s single-minded affection would appear. Surely she had an earth-shattering reason as to why Yuki meant the world to her. Instead, all I got was a very shallow scene that was neither touching nor romantic.

Despite committing monstrous actions, villain protagonists can be sympathetic. Just look at Griffith from Berserk. To the anime’s credit, it tries its best to humanize Yuno through her past. Bits and pieces of Yuno’s tragic backstory are presented to the audience. She’s had a hard life, no question about it, and yet…I was unconvinced. Let me explain. I could buy Yuno developing mental disorders and dysfunctional personality traits, like her paranoia, co-dependency, and difficulty relating to others. However, not to the extent that she went from a happy-go-lucky girl to Ms. Slice N’ Dice in a two-year span. But I digress.

Yuki and Yuno’s romance is toxic at every conceivable level and brings out the worst in each other. The script’s direction wants us to root for them to be together, but I could only see it as a sad case of Stockholm’s syndrome. There were times were I could enjoy their interactions with each other, like watching a slow-moving train-wreck unfolding in front of me. Anime has no obligation to portray healthy relationships, especially in a battle royale scenario. One-hundred percent agreed. However, it keeps Yuno from feeling remorse for her deplorable actions, since Yuki forgives her readily. And as for Yuki, he somehow becomes even WORSE as a character since he met her.

Let’s get to the secondary characters, like Uryuu Minene and Nishijima. It is a sad state of affairs when the child-murdering terrorist is the only one with any kind of meaningful character arc. If someone threatened me with a gun to my head, I would even say I liked her. Minene wants no pity since ‘everyone’s got tragedy in their lives’. Death and destruction marred every facet of her life, but she still wants to survive. Her fierce independence and fiery streak were a welcome contrast to our main hero’s spinelessness. She even calls him out on his bullshit. Bloodthirsty like Yuno, but still carries a small bit of sanity intact. Like all the other Diary holders, Minene’s backstory does not naturally unfold. It is told through random sepia-colored flashbacks and – to my disappointment – not as detailed as everyone else’s.

Nishijima is a nice enough cop, who is terrible at his job. He lets a known terrorist alone with Yuki at his hospital bed. In another instance, he asks a single question to a suspect wanted for murder – both sitting at a café, no less – and lets them go with an exasperated sigh when they do not answer. The anime suggests his shifting loyalty is due to his blossoming feelings for Minene, but the storyline does nothing to show us even the vaguest hints of his growing attraction. The plot tells us they are in love…so they are in love. Still a better love story than Twilight.

Deus Ex Machina and Akise are hard to write about without going into heavy spoilers, but I’ll try. Akise is a bargain-bin Kaworu; from his intense, yet unexplained, love for a boy (in this case Yuki), down to his silver hair and piercing red eyes. I will give him this much: he was an interesting character. At least his intelligent musings on the story’s mysteries kept me from becoming comatose. His thoughts on the nature, or lack thereof, of free will were fine. My biggest compliment to his characterization is that I did not want to throw him into an industrial-sized meat-grinder like the rest of the cast. Deus Ex Machina is disappointing; so much fascinating characterization can be written about a dying god looking for a worthy replacement. All I got were more questions, and few answers.

What can I say about the rest of these lovable characters like the nerve-gas expert toddler, a psychic loli, a superhero wannabe, the murderous battle couple, and a pseudo-Nazi sympathizer? Not much, really. Can you really expound pages upon pages about the tools in your garage? They are pawns of the script; they get a short, sad backstory, before being used up and discarded five minutes later. After the anime concluded, I forgot all their names. Hinata, Mao, Kousaka are there for comic relief and to fill up space – that’s about as much energy as I can muster up for them.

To the anime’s credit, it has a great gothic 1st OP that sets up the mood perfectly for a psychological thriller. Too bad the show is only cosplaying as one. 2nd OP has terrible English; the voice actress can sing, but I kept missing the 1st OP. It’s still catchy, though. At the most inopportune times, stock sound effects that seem ripped straight out of a Looney Tunes episode ruin the tense atmosphere. Surf rock plays during comedic moments. Playful piano pieces accentuate the lighthearted interactions between Yuno and Yuki’s slice-of-life moments. Both EDs are serviceable rock songs. Voice actors did a strong job portraying their insane characters, especially Yuno.

Deny it all you want, character designs are eye-catching. Asides from her perchance for violence, Yuno is an extremely recognizable character in the anime community. Her pink hair, bright smile, and menacing knife make her memorable. I didn’t dislike the colorful look of any of the characters except for the 8th player – Kamado Ueshita. She looks like a sentient bag of flour wearing a Smurf hat. Within the context of the show, her peculiar appearance goes mysteriously unacknowledged. Animation is fine for what it is; Makoto Shinkai can breathe easy. Kudos for drawing Yuno’s frightening expressions, though. There is some terrible CGI in this. Initial D’s cars took a wrong turn and ended up in Mirai Nikki.

And finally, the ending. I would talk more about it but I have only just recovered from a bad case of the giggles. Suffice to say it is the cherry on top of this rancid sundae.

Recommended to anyone who wishes to have a pink-haired, emotionally unstable, sociopathic, murderous teenager for a girlfriend. Don’t invite me to the wedding.

‘The Red Shoes’ was a fairy tale by Hans Andersen, and just like his other stories, it had his characteristic gruesome and morbid imagery. It told the sad tale of a girl, Karen, cursed by an angel with a pair of red shoes that doomed her to dance for all eternity. In her sheer desperation, she asked an executioner to chop off her feet. However, to her horror, the shoes danced before her – with her amputated feet still inside them. She prayed to God, asking for help, but that same angel reappeared…and caused her heart to burst.

While no one dies in ‘Pokémon Gotta ... Dance’, it too tells the grim tale of beings condemned to dance due to an evil object – the dancing stick.

‘Pokémon Gotta Dance’ is, without a doubt, one of the darkest Pokémon shorts. A trio of Whismur get abducted to play maracas for a mob boss. Pikachu polka dances near a cliff’s edge, a step away from certain death. Treecko, visibly in pain, tries to resist the power of the dancing stick, but eventually succumbs to it. And by the end, Meowth muses depressingly that music ruined his life. There might not be much to the plot, but this Pokémon short is one of the very few that did not bore me to tears.

It’s obvious that this special was a labor of love from the animators. Colors are bright and cheery, one of the last Pokémon shorts that used traditional hand-painted cels. The scenery is rife with coy references to other Pikachu shorts. Animating all those Pokémon to dance must have been a gargantuan task. Ever wanted to see Meowth and Pikachu tango together? How about Mudkip doing some sick pirouettes? Or Wobbuffet hula dancing – grass skirt and all? Choreography, technique, and performance are on point. Contestants in ‘Dancing with the Stars’ could learn a thing or two from them.

I sure hope you liked the second ED in ‘Pokémon Advanced Generation’, because ‘Polka O Dolka’ is played. A lot. Thank God it’s catchy as hell. For anyone who isn’t a Pokémon nerd, this song is an upbeat melody played with xylophones and a shamisen – a traditional three-stringed Japanese instrument. While I did not feel annoyed by its excessive use, I would wholeheartedly understand anyone feeling irritated by the third time around.

Recommended to anyone who wants to watch cute Pokémon dancing against their will. You sick fuck.

‘The Monkey’s Paw’ was a short horror story written in the early 20th century, which centered on a mysterious primate’s hand that would grant three wishes to whomever found it. Written as a cautionary tale, each wish carried a grave price – poverty, madness, or even death. It served as a warning not to fight against fate and be thankful for what you have.

In 1989, a Japanese child came across the mythical monkey’s paw and wished for her favorite video game franchise to become an anime. It is the only logical explanation that I have for the existence of this monstrosity, ‘Amada Anime Series: ... Super Mario Brothers’.

Each episode has its own self-contained story and is a retelling of a classic tale. I do not know which executive producer greenlit this project, or what Nintendo was smoking to grant their approval. All I know is that each 11-minute episode has some of the most bizarre scenes I have seen in any anime. For example, in the first episode, a shooting star crashes, revealing a giant peach inside. Behold, baby Mario has arrived in all his mustachioed glory! The narrator tells us he is an infant, but our eyes see the same Italian plumber we all know and love, sans clothing. There are few moments in fiction that have given me as much of a mindfuck as an adult Mario bawling his eyes out like a newborn baby and sucking on a milk bottle. David Lynch should take notes.

The crazy marches forward in all three episodes. At one point, Mario carries a machine gun with him to defeat Bowser and save Princess Peach. After all, when you think of the Super Mario games, you immediately think of assault weapons. In another episode, a Mario the size of my pinky receives a sword by his father. Just as a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, Mario and swords are a classic combo, of course. Did I forget to mention that a female Bowser pops up at one point? When the series takes a break from all the weirdness, it is as dull as my cooking. Stilted dialogue, lifeless scenery, characters flatter than pancakes…you know the drill.

Animation is bad, even for late 1980’s standards. Characters slide across the screen, rather than walk. Mario’s fights against enemies are still footage repeated thrice in succession in a sorry attempt at movement. Colors are washed out and drab. ‘Dragon Ball Z’ also came out in 1989, and it looks infinitely better. Unfortunately, they did not Kamehameha this sorry anime out of existence.

Music is forgettable. A bland synthesizer plays in the background accompanied by a piano bit that sounds suspiciously like the one in the song ‘Baba O’Riley’ by The Who. Fault the director for this animated atrocity all you want at least he has good musical taste.

Recommended only to the most stubborn, die-hard Mario fans.

Be careful what you wish for.

‘Dante’s Inferno’ was a tale written in the 14th century, which depicted a chilling journey of the main character, Dante, descending through the nine circles of Hell in search for the love of his life, Beatrice. While all the Circles of Hell were terrifying in their own way, the deepest and most horrible of them all was the center of Hell – an icy abyss that was furthest away from God’s warmth. Reserved for the traitors against God, the ultimate sinners, these souls were condemned to be eternally chewed on by the Devil himself.

Dante was mistaken, for he forgot to mention that there ... was a place far more brutal and dire.

The Tenth Circle of Hell: Watching ‘Slowking’s Day’.

Anyone unfortunate enough to reside here has to contend with one of the most boring main characters in all of the Pokémon franchise prattling about his dull life. Slowking remarks to himself about the most painfully obvious activities he is doing like, “Morning. I wake up.” His voice matching the monotony of his life, he remarks about the weather or sleep, indifferent of the boredom that he is inflicting on the viewers. Lacking a plot and meaningful characters, the special entertains no one.

Regrettably, the agony does not stop here. Anyone unfortunate enough to be punished with this special must endure the high-pitched, nasal voices of the most annoying toddlers in all of Creation screaming, “Things Slowking likes…!” every ten seconds. Then, as if that torture is not enough, these children shrilly cry inanities such as, “Coconuts!” or “Taking walks!” Their piercing intonation does not waver throughout the special – it is incessant and infuriating. And to add insult to injury, the peaceful ‘Route 29’ song plays, its soft xylophone melody cruelly juxtaposed with the shrieks of those tiny hell beasts.

Lead a morally righteous life, stay away from ‘Slowking’s Day’.

Recommended only to Judas Iscariot.

You will never see another anime quite like Cipher.

It is a music video, a love sonnet to New York City, a tribute to Phil Collins, a movie within a movie, a commercial for cake mix, an interview, a psychoanalysis of its characters, a surreal mind trip... Cipher is all those things and so much more.

As I watched, I felt a full range of emotions: confusion, delight, disgust, joy, outrage, hilarity. Although based on a shoujo manga, director Tsuneo Tominaga decided to throw the source material away, including a linear narrative, character arcs, and discernible dialogue, for a bizarre trip through his subconscious. Lacking any semblance ... of plot, music videos are strung together to form a tapestry of idiosyncratic moments in the life of twins Siva and Cipher. Then a Pillsbury Doughboy parody decides to pop up smack-dab in the middle of the OVA. Then a movie interview follows soon after. But hold on…another music video! Wait, is that a fat flying cat with a bow-tie? Nothing makes sense and it is brilliant.

Although most of the OVA is cheerful and upbeat, a dark undercurrent runs through its 26-minute run. While the twins are charismatic, talented, and well-liked, they are also filthy liars. What drives them to fake their way through life is up for interpretation, but it could be seen as a scathing rebuke of the hotshot movie lifestyle. Or perhaps their deceit is due to their tragic backstory? Or maybe it was all an elaborate ruse to get their hands on that cake mix? It sure made me hungry enough to commit a crime. Another notable character is Anise, their classmate. She is bubbly, hotheaded, sports an obvious crush, and apparently likes to dress up as Peter Pan. Make of that what you will.

The soundtrack is outstanding; it has that campy and delightful 80’s feel, with songs such as “Against All Odds” by Phil Collins and “Let's Hear It for the Boy” by Deniece Williams. If a Cipher CD comes out, I would download the shit out of it. Voice acting quality is a mixed bag; voice actors all speak English (given that this is set in the U.S.) but at varying levels of experience. Some of them did a phenomenal job and sounded just like native English speakers, but others performed as if ripped straight from a parody dub.

Characters are drawn pretty and bishounen-like: tall, handsome, well-built and indistinguishable from one another. Although the guys are nice eye candy, my favorite character design goes to Anise: bushy blond hair, soulful brown eyes, and wears keys for earrings. Someone call Vogue, I have a new model for them. Second best would be Mose, who looked like he had been transported straight from the pages of the Old Testament. Animation is mostly the characters dancing. They could beat any Dance Dance Revolution tournament blindfolded.

Cipher transcends scores and numerical rating scales – it is an EXPERIENCE.

Recommended to absolutely every single living being on this planet.