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Mahou Shoujo Magical Destroyers is an interesting one. It’s an experimental anime that attempts to make an appeal to its broader otaku-orientated audiences while also composing a social commentary about the otakus and its culture. Siding mostly with sympathy for otakus and the cruelty of being ostracized for liking anime and its subcultures, Magical Destryers desperately wanted to convey a guilt-driven fantasy for the unfairness of being misrepresented and illy treated by a larger, ambitiously as well as ambiguously presented “societal”’ forces that want to eradicate them from the face of Japan.

Set in a fictional timeline of the year 2008, the Japanese Government, ... for unknown reasons, decided to crack down on its otakus and the culture within the country. Fast forward to the year 2011, the suppression has brought the masses to the brink of extinction, pushing the last group of remaining otaku rebel forces to a secluded area within Akihabara. This particular group of rebels, led by a famed figure known as the “Otaku Hero” along with his magical girls have long lost their strongholds elsewhere in Japan. With only one of the three magical girls remaining and the other two gone either missing or captured, the rebels’ ultimate goal was to rescue and recruit the magical girls once again to even have a slim chance of fighting back against the forces of suppression.

With an already intriguing setup such as this, Magical Destroyers still found itself lost in its own directional ideas and tonal inconsistencies that were scattered throughout. Going beyond its debut episodes, Magical Destoyers’ unwillingness of sticking to its core premise for more than a couple of episodes at a time was the ultimate detrimental fallout in its place.

From the get-go, the initial impression of its premise can be served for the entirety of the runtime as the plot point involve finding, rescuing, and recruiting the two crucially absent magical girls could take time and effort, as well as the difficulties due to their limited remaining forces, and the endeavors that come with a governmental crackdown that is three year into its operation. In theory, with the exploration of its concepts such as why the Japanese Government has decided to take on its own deeply ingrained culture, and, by extension, the economically successful industries that derive from it, could be utilized between its supposed key plot points and conceive a show more than just a surface-level presentation.

The basic premise of Magical Destroyers derives solely from the notion of ostracization of Otakus and Otaku Culture and how media such as Magical Destroyers anime utilizes it for commentary purposes as a form of entertainment. Shows like this are intended to make a larger social commentary about the state of its broad social sphere. In Japan, like anywhere else in the world that has been exposed to anime and its otaku culture, there’s no secret that there’s still a feeling of disdain and belittling among the larger societal forces towards anime and its sub-cultures—especially within the populations that aren’t too familiar with the subcultures and its appeal. Conveniently, Magical Destroyers takes those elements of feeling looked down upon and took to the extreme with its presentation of ostracization by the literal display of outright prohibition of typical otaku activities and hobbies: anime figurines are seized from existence, cosplays are forbidden, otaku people in cages, the extreme tight surveillance within Akihabara, the ongoing war between factions and the government, and the constant destruction of cities and civilizations that are centered around otaku culture. Its extreme presentation within the anime is meant to invoke a feeling of despair and despondency that otakus ought to be felt as if it’s a real possibility.

The fundamental message that Magical Destroyers wanted to convey throughout its entire run but struggled to do so is that it’s okay to be an otaku and one should be proud of the hobbies that they enjoy performing and indulge in. The friends and foes of the rebels and their hero encounter serve this single narrative message. This is also deliberately spelled out through Anarchy’s actions and her occasional emotional pleas and outcries. For instance, in the early stages of the anime, when there was a seemingly clear narrative objective, the psychological-dream battle between Pink and Anarchy that resulted in Pink being the eventual third and final magical girl to be recruited aided in this primary idea of the anime. The gist of the fight was for Pink to embrace her existence and what she represents in the larger context of otaku culture despite the vulgar tendencies that come with it. That, in the eyes of disgust, one’s own actions can bring about the appreciation of their hobbies to light in a positive manner. That, the perception of others on things that are known to be confined within the otaku culture can be shaped by the very people who are knowledgeable and wields them with good intentions. That, it’s all about the person who’s behind it all dictates the perceptions of otakus and its culture. This fundamental idea is significant as it shows that there was something to be taken from this anime.

However, the issue lies in the tonal inconsistencies that significantly diminish the urgency that the anime wants to make the viewers feel and empathize. In one episode, the anime could focus much on the core elements of the show by presenting the harsh and bleak environment that Otaku Hero and his rebel forces are suffering through but then in the next episode, out of nowhere, a random faction from another desolated town could be having a sewage-pool party with the Otaku Hero Group and his magical girls join in—everybody joins in and have a good time. Even in an episodic structured anime, while the narrative may not have progressed, the tone in which that was instilled in the first episode should always be kept consistent. Otherwise, in a combination of a lack of meaningful progress and tonal inconsistencies, the content in which it’s presented feels pointless. Oftentimes, when a series presents absolutely meaningless content on screen, one has to make contrivances to tie in whatever bizarre crap was on display to an aspect of the show superficially. And this superficiality is often used to disguise the sheer mess that a series is in.

The anime’s journey it took to present and deliver this core idea was futile in the end because of its indecisiveness in its direction that which become quite evident later on. Instead of maybe focusing on crafting a few more purposeful events that serve in the grander narrative message, the show resorts to confusing and pointless, and dumb entertainment to fill in the time before tying it all together with an ill-planned plot twist to instate its presence.

When crafting a fiction such as Magical Destroyers that attempts to make a larger societal commentary, one should approach the topics on hand with a heart, clear and purposeful direction. Along with it, one might also incorporate some philosophical concepts and interpretations to facilitate the grander scheme of such work. The ideas that Magical Destroyers had is arguably a common guilt-driven sentimental projection that some might have held; it’s a view that shouldn’t be laughed off of let alone making a wishy-washy show with no further explorations of its concepts.

What you’re watching isn’t a coherent narrative that’s brimmed with ideas that it wants to explore and present. Instead, on a basic level, you’re witnessing a very common feeling that’s born from the sentiment that a certain subculture has been unfairly ostracized by the public and that it’s in dire need of resistance and protection—like that of Magical Destroyers urges represent. But the very child-like inner fantasies that it likes to project is the lethal tumor of itself. Just like any gibberish, incoherent, and rudimentary fantasies that a child would make up in their heads before going to sleep, one forgets them the very next day. Magical Destroyers is that anime.

I want to underline that despite my sheer disappointment with Magical Destroyers’ delivery of its initial captivating ideas, I still had a fun time with the anime. Magical Destroyers is that anime that brings about absurdities and nonsensical ideas onto the screen while making it entertaining to watch. What the anime presents is never the cause of boredom, rather, it’s the failure in sticking to its initial core ideas that the series had.

At some point in everyone's early school life, they experienced the feeling of agony, dread, and uncertainty as well as excitement and anticipation when they first entered this peculiar realm known as high school. A realm within the larger school system that’s often branded with much importance in the eyes of many as it’s the stage in one’s early life that marks many transitions: The transition phase from a teenager to an adult and becoming a part of society, the transition phase of preparation for further education in Universities, and in some cases, it’s a transition phase of life-changing events that define who one can ... be later in life. This emphasis is felt throughout various people’s lives and it’s certainly presented heavily in media such as anime.

Skip to Loafer, to its basic premise is about a bright rural Japanese girl who got into a top high school institution in Tokyo. With such an institution, she wants to use it as a platform for her dreams: Fantasizing about working in the law and governmental sphere as a career with great ambitions, she has already mentally planned out her bigger goals in life of changing her rural side of Japan forever. Brimming with absolute confidence, she steps into the greater Tokyo headstrong but only to get lost on her first day of school.

When inspecting such ambiguous plot synopsis of Skip to Loafer, the ever so easygoing promotional cover for the anime, and even the standard character designs, one can mistakenly simplify Skip to Loafer down to a generic, run-of-the-mill, slice-of-life high-school drama. While there are dramas in the anime, it’s very minuscule as much of the focus is on the characters and social dynamics. And the drama that takes place is never too overbearing that it becomes silly, exaggerated, and unreasonable. Instead, the dramas in the show are there to foster competent writing of its characters and storytelling.

What Skip to Loafer does best is the exploration of its cast at a basic human understanding in the most organic and purest ways. Each of the characters in the show has their own motivations, insecurities, flaws, strengths, and tenacity for themselves and each other. What’s so fascinating to watch is that the anime often put them all together and have authentic interactions that highlight the individual traits that ultimately define them. And this way, they learn not only about themselves but also about each other—just like a small but close group of friends in any typical high school environment. When putting such a focus on this particular group of characters, the anime gets the opportunity to go in-depth on each particular individual too. And because the anime is really just about them, when a character is fully explored, the things that we learn about them have a direct connection to the rest of the cast.

Take Mika Egashira for example, the purpose of her character at the very beginning of the anime was, at first, to be the drama queen of the show. A very confident, manipulative, and very self-aware of social dynamics for a high schooler. Unlike the plain old drama queens of her type, however, she doesn’t just fall into that single category and is strictly confined to it. What the series presents at first is very much a glimpse of her character. An insight into the motivations of her acts and thinking. Rarely does an anime such as this ever give depth to what it’s trying to convey through a character. Skip to Loafer does. What the viewers first see of Mika is not the same at the end of the anime. Through its runtime, the anime understands that to beat outside of its usual set-up, there needs to be more than just a simple flashback for Mika, it needs to first construct and assemble these characters with authentic human emotions and thoughts of high schoolers. The trials and turbulences, and the emotional growth that come with this particular age group. Mika, despite her unlikable attitude at the onset of the anime, she did still have a caring and vulnerable side of her—which is revealed by the time that they all spent together at Karaoke. The point is, the anime took the time to show it to the viewers just enough for us to grasp her thoughts and personality. And when the anime finally did expand on her, we are more inclined to empathize with its presentations.

One particular highlight of the anime that nails it home is the trials of the high school experience in terms of misunderstandings and communication. In those particular situations where one wants to resolve conflicts, teenagers often struggle to find words to express their thoughts, emotions, and conflicting feelings about themselves and others. In fact, it is a common struggle among all people. The anime not only present these situations from the perspective of infuriation for anyone who’s ever gone through it but also pushes the only known concept to confront these misunderstandings is head-on. To talk. To speak one’s mind. One’s better off being understood than being left in a state of limbo where all the anxiety and guilt-driven feelings reside and the breaking of connections, bonds, and friendships occurs. This is particularly important as the anime expresses it is part of experiencing high school life where forming long potential long-term bonds and friendships materialize and transpire.

Skip to Loafer offers more insights into the minds of broader high schoolers. The past, present, and future experiences that the characters form in the anime are often presented with much detail and reflections of an authentic experience. The subject that the series tackles are never to preach to anyone. But merely a presentation with an alluring and charming group cast with plenty of depth to themselves.

I think at the core of Bocchi the Rock! is the many instances of growth, lessons, and emotional maturation of Hitori, or Bocchi as she goes by in the show, that she undergoes is what made this show work. In all of its light-hearted comedic moments and spectacular visual usage in its presentation, it is all done so in the cause of facilitating the human characterizations of Bocchi to the viewers with relatability and charisma. Without this core theme as the pillar of the entire show, I don’t think it would’ve worked as effectively as it did.

The simple story of Bocchi the Rock! quickly ... unravels as we learn that Bocchi has had social anxiety for as long as she knew her existence. As it’s shown at the very beginning of the series, Bocchi spent all of her middle school struggling to make friendships, share hobbies, and do what her heart desires. Her anxiety stems from her uncanny disorder of being unable to speak and project confidently in front of people. When in face of one-on-one conversations, it’s shown in her body language as she often darts her eyes left and right, cowers her body as to run or away, and speaks in stuttered ways under the spotlight. The attention to portraying an introvert with social anxiety in this obvious yet subtle way is what makes the show work.

Additionally, the show takes steps to make a distinction between an introvert with social anxiety and a frequent normal introvert. This element of contrast is plainly shown between Ryou Yamada and Bocchi. Ryou, one of the four members of the Kessoku band and one of the main leads of the show, likes being alone as opposed to Bocchi, who desperately seeks connections and friendships despite her social endeavors. Ryou is very much different from Bocchi. Despite that both of them can be categorized as introverts, it’s the ways of their behavior and conduct that separate them. Such as in ways while Bocchi struggles under the spotlight and in social situations, Ryou is absolutely indifferent to social interactions; she speaks when she wants to and when she likes to without any of the traits that Bocchi has. I admit that even though this part of the presentation is not prominent in the show, it’s subtle enough for me to appreciate it and it’s an add-on that makes the show work.

Outside of its characters, the director of Bocchi the Rock! often uses clever and profound visual imagery to convey Bocchi’s inner workings of the mind. Many moments where I found myself surprisingly chuckling or laughing out loud arose from those scenes. Be it the display of pouring water from a pipeline in a non-animation format or an actual sketch drawing animation sequence that was meant to represent the chaotic space of Bocchi’s mind when she goes under social panic attacks; nonetheless, I found this style of directing to be really fun to watch and it serves its purpose to the characters and by extension, the show. Thus, making it really reminiscent of something such as The Tatami Galaxy and the like. While I haven’t read its source material, I have no doubt that this anime adaptation has significantly enhanced the manga that an animation form can and truly produce in extravagant ways.

As I aforementioned at the beginning of this writing, the core of Bocchi the Rock! is the journey of growth, lessons, and emotional maturity in Bocchi throughout the show. In the many instances since Bocchi’s decision to join a band as she has always dreamed of, the show takes notable moments to present the momentous occasions in which she’s in the process of changing and growing. And the scenes comprised of those moments are always dealt with heart and passion from the director, animators, and storyboarders. This is evident in the way how this project is presented in every episode. Every scene of every episode in this show goes the extra mile and a half more than the previous ones and its efforts certainly stand out among the masses. In turn, for the viewers, making it really endearing to watch. At the same time, it’s not easy for Bocchi. This is why we see Bocchi often reverting back to her old self—crumbling under social situations, panicking and overthinking, or stuttering all the same. But the change is still there and we, the viewers, can see it. The same can be said for the rest of the band as well. For all of its members: Ryou, Nijika, and Ikuyo get their moment of reflection as a collective. Which in turn, cultivates their bond as a group, a band, and friends, leading to some of the best and my favorite moments and performances in the show. This is all due to the fact that it’s presented in entertaining ways as well as with heart and passion that’s communicated to the audience.

Bocchi the Rock! is one of those shows that permeate happiness, adrenaline, and excitement, as well as meaningful heartfelt moments in every single episode of its run. The usage of its visuals as a storytelling tool is beyond the limitations and confinements of the usual animation form as it’s utilized in an uncanny fashion that’s filled with flair and mastery directing to produce results. Combined with the absolute devotion and enthusiasm from the staff, their passion and love for the series constantly seep through the show. And that’s what makes Bocchi the Rock! work. It’s more than just your run-of-the-mill Cute Girls Doing Cute Things type of show as some quickly label it as. What makes Bocchi the Rock! a such delightful watch in its entirety is that the show goes beyond its initial genre impression and shall be held above all of its comparisons and the shows alike.

Arknights: Prelude to Dawn is an anime made for people who are already familiar with the series and the franchise, to begin with. It should be noted that the anime is an adaptation of the same game by the same name: Arknights. And as the rest of the anime title implies, the anime is a prologue to what the fans often allude to as an introduction to a much grander narrative filled with plentiful world-building, complex characterizations, and profound mythology. It goes without saying that people who are fans of Arknights and have played the game will have an ecstatic time with Arknights: Prelude to ... Dawn because of their immense knowledge of the game’s narrative and events. Moreover, seeing it all play out in a well-produced animation format will surely satisfy most of the fans. However, speaking for myself, a person who never played the game and couldn’t care less to dive into a gacha game for that matter, don’t have many positives to say about the anime in itself.

I don’t believe this anime adaptation is bad, nor do I believe the anime does anything exceptional or marvelous. It’s a prologue after all. And as a prologue, it’s an introduction to the world of Arknights. One thing to be noted is that the pacing is rather slow this time around. Which, I believe it does works in the series' favor somewhat. The slow introduction to the world of Arknights allows the anime to present the intricacies of its setting and firmly establish the tone and atmosphere of the narrative. And this really is the main appeal of the prologue: the bleakness and hopelessness of Terra—at least on the surface level.

Set in the land of Terra, the world of Arknights has been plunged into conflicts and terror since the occurrence of natural disasters known as “Catastrophy”. The regular occurrence of these catastrophic events brings down hellfire and destruction to humanity and its civilization. However, it doesn’t stop there. Its leftover remnants also radiate an incurable disease known as Oripathy upon the populations, which is the main cause of human conflict in Terra. The central focus of the entire narrative in Arknights: Prelude to Dawn can be pinned down to this internal conflict. Every plot point and event that occur within the anime happens as the result of this continuous phenomenon. Nonetheless, the issue lies in that despite the captivating establishment of its conflict, the factions involved in this conflict are left with a lot to be desired.

In the prologue, there are two main factions within this conflict. And that they exist simply because of their ideological differences. One, the Reunion side, which the series sets up as the main antagonist force of the two, strongly believes in the superiority of the infected people. Their belief, although vaguely presented thus far, stems from their suffering at the hands of oppression and annihilation from governments and their opposing force: Rhode Island. Rhode Island, contrary to Reunion, is a much more coordinated force that heavily serves the role of extension to the supposed existence of governments within the land of Terra in the series. But because many elements in Arknights: Prelude to Dawn is so ambiguous and up in the air, the conflicts that do happen feels dry and devoid of urgency in the narrative. The post-apocalyptical societal commentary that the show intends to portray is lost in the ever distractions of one-off antagonist forces that don’t get fully fleshed out; sub-plots and side missions that don’t contribute much to the narrative other than to serve as some superficial drama and dull action sequences on screen that’s also plagued with conventional anime dialogues that get your eyes rolling over at its corniness, and tire-some ways of conveying to the viewers.

The conflicts that happen in the show feel dry because of the show’s ideological and literal conflicts that are embodied by the Reunion and Rhode Island is plagued with bland characterizations. Throughout the entire run, there’s nothing profound to be revealed about the Reunion’s idealogy and their psychotic devotion to the cause. On the surface, whenever they're on screen, they illuminate the aura of sophisticated groups with personalities. That despite their divided sub-factions, they seem to have the same ideological connections. But when they actually speak and talk, they embody the typical one-off villains that are never to be seen again with corny dialogue and obnoxious voice acting. The anime never once attempted to explore that side of the conflict. Which, by a long shot, is the most interesting of the two main factions. Instead, the time spent on the Reunion side has gotten nothing but vagueness for the entire duration.

Furthermore, with the introduction of a “doctor” who’s all but lost their memories of themselves, the show relies on the supporting cast to remind the “doctor” and by extension, the viewers, that there’s a reason for all the chaos, destruction and rescues without saying much at the same time. It’s the usage of ambiguousness in the introduction of the series that holds back the overall appeal and attention that the show at the same time demands of us. Much of the show is in a state of multiple concurrent moving pieces despite its slower pacing, which prompts itself to never settle down and take a breather to present its ideas through the characters and actually show the viewers of its world’s societal complexities and complications that the series emphasizes. Because of this, over the course of its runtime, there’s nothing to be taken away from this installment. Even if Arknights: Prelude to Dawn is a prologue, there should have been a clear objective of what it wants to achieve, which the show seemingly doesn’t have outside of its visual compartment.

The next section of this review is more of a personal grudge that I have for the series as a whole rather than a universal problem that it has. And I’m well aware that the consensus of likability on this specific aspect of the show obviously varies from person to person. But what I find particularly distracting about Arknights: Prelude to Dawn is the semi-animal-humanoid character designs. For a series that reiterates again and again about its bleakness, a hopeless world where everything is either collapsing or on the brink of collapse, certain characters with cute slim bunny ears or tiny rabbit ears and tails really take me out of the immersion. It’s one thing if, from the onset, there were only these semi-animal-humanoid species on Terra that resembles human-like attributes and they have populated and ingrained themselves into the world. That way, everything would feel organic. But that’s clearly not the case: there are regular humans inhabiting Terra too.

Having semi-animal-humanoid characters in a series is not the problem, the issue lies in the series' deliberate design to make them cute and adorable in contrast to a much dreary tone that constantly overshadows the series. Personally, I’ve historically got a problem with the clash of tones in shows and films—especially the ones like Arknights. Where having the moe, ‘kawaii’ or straight-up fanservice moments ruin the immersion for me. And I see it as nothing but an attempt to be more than what it actually is.

As I have aforementioned, the fans of Arknights will probably be more than thrilled to see an adaptation of this prologue. The expectations and hype surrounding the release were already evident. But no matter how much hype and positivity the fans generate for a show like this, however, the flaws will always seep through in the end. Arknights: Prelude to Dawn is a popcorn flick with flashy visuals and an initial intriguing narrative and themes. With it, the show managed to grab an audience but never did anything with the initial appeal.

I had high hopes for Summertime Render at the beginning. A show that was seemingly different than the rest of the seasonals with its focus on suspense, murder mystery, and thriller as the foundation of the story. The first episode was so good I didn’t know I was hungry for some good old murder mystery thriller until Summertime Render hit the Spring Seasonal charts for 2022. The show in the beginning had everything set up to be at least an enticing suspense show for me to indulge in for the rest of its runtime. What could go wrong? The show demonstrated with absolute certainty that ... there won’t be any contrivances or complete divergence from the original gripping story beats. I was convinced that if any changes were to occur, it would only strengthen itself with good and competent writing. Truly, I was so convinced nothing could go wrong for Summertime Render that I once gave in to the idea that this show would become the dark horse of the Spring Season as some eagerly touted it was.

Summertime Render firstly hooks its viewers and glues them to the show's mystery, setting, and tone in an enthralling fashion. The first three episodes or so do this extremely well in showing this through Shinpei Ajiro, a former resident of Hitogashima Island returning for the funeral of his deceased childhood friend: Ushio Kofune. During the funeral, however, Shinpei quickly discovered strangle marks around Ushio’s neck before the closing of the coffin of her laying body. As expected, he became suspicious and doubted that the cause of Ushio’s death was drowning as the rumor goes. This reveal was the first instance of murder mystery that Summertime Render was destined to be but never was. Substantially, the episodes that followed deliberately heightened the suspense when we see others around Shinpei began to act suspicious. They were questioning and watchful of Shinpei’s doings, giving the implication of distrust and secrets which they wish to withhold; as if they were trying to prevent Shinpei from discovering the cause of Ushio’s death.

At this point in the show, I was on board. It was delivering everything I want in what I thought was a murder mystery thriller. But the exact breaking point was in the same episode when Mio Kofune confided to Shinpei about similar deaths and disappearances that had been occurring due to a phenomenon called “Shadow Sickness”. A phenomenon derived from the island’s folklore where these entities called Shadows kills their targets before they copy the said target and act as them. It’s then implied by Mio that Ushio’s death is somehow linked to the Shadows.

Naturally, the plot then revolved around the Shadows and became everything to Summertime Render. The Shadows are the catalyst for its narrative and uncovering Shadow’s relation to Ushio’s death was the driving force of the plot. The introduction of the Shadows also served a second purpose: a way for the show to continue the suspense but in physical threat to Shinpei and the rest of the cast alike.

To do this, the Shadows were presented to have assimilated into the larger human population of the island. Additionally, their known ruthless killing and copying of people naturally provided a constant sense of danger to Shinpei and the rest of the cast. Cause from then on, they have to be wary of who were and who were not Shadows. However, I think Summertime Render made the first grave error when it actively chose to reveal Ushio, the plot’s driving force at this point, to be alive in Shadow form.

Not only was Ushio revealed to be alive and well in her shadow form, the Shadow retained Ushio’s memories and personality; meaning that she was not a threat to Shinpei. This also sets the precedent that Shadows like her, who retains the memories of the people they killed or copied, would not be a threat to the cast either. The existence of Mio’s Shadow later in the show is the proof. But what I want to get at is that the existence of Ushio’s shadow completely threw away the essence of Ushio’s character in the show. Her death was the sole driving force for the plot of Summertime Render and its characters. Bringing her back with no reasons other than to be the reminder that she’s the main love interest to Shinpei and that she can fight with her new hair powers just completely crumples the show.

This is where Summertime Render begins its comical contrivances to justify the existence of a plot.

With the abandonment of its original objective and frankly, the narrative and the elements that defined Summertime Render in the first place, the show has to resort to the less exciting, more predictable methods that further require contrivances as it goes. To justify the Shadows’ existence, the series first made the impression that these Shadows are invaders. Their sole purpose was to serve as a superficial threat in the series for Shinpei and others to have conflicts with. Then, through the reveal of Haine, the Shadows' reason for all the havoc, killing, and copying are so they can go to the land of “eternity”. This, however, was never expanded on because the show proceeds to abandon it as soon it was introduced and favored a more tragic manipulation route: Contriving sympathy for Haine. Haine, over the course of an episode, went from a literal feared being among the Shadows to a sweet little innocent girl who was the victim of the curse that she unwillingly obtained from a Shadow Whale that happens to lie on a coastal beach hundreds of years ago. Summertime Render then uses this to pinpoint the real evil on Haine's righthand man who turns out to be manipulating her for three hundred years for his selfish gains.

The plot progression that Summertime Render undertook is exacerbated when all the meaningless fights, conflicts, and drama are sandwiched in between. The conflict and drama served no purpose whatsoever.

So what’s left of Summertime Render? Nothing. For one, its sole original captivating element was the murder mystery, which the show forsook. Two, the shift in focus on the shadows and their reveal felt flat and shallow; it lacked the anticipation and tension that the series entailed in the beginning. I would say that Summertime Render could’ve easily just stuck to the path of a murder mystery without justifying the shadows' existence. It had everything and every reason to do so.

This series isn’t even worth a second of your time given that the characters are just as flat, boring, and skimpy as the narrative in itself. Summertime Render has a large assembly of casts and each of them gets the bare minimum character archetypes and relations in the grander landscape of anime tropes. In a series like this, tying the characters to specific anime tropes is not the problem, the problem lies in how the series utilizes the trope and further develops the characters associated with it. But of course, Summertime Render chooses not to invest much into its characters but more so into an already heavily contrived narrative.

The product of that choice is the main character whose original goal is shifted from finding out the causes of Ushio’s death to saving the Island to learning about the shadows and whatever the heck the plot needs him to be. That’s not interesting. That’s not something for me to get behind. For the entirety of its runtime, there’s not a single ounce of depth that’s naturally developed in Shinpei and the rest of the cast alike. We learn little to nothing about his relations to the Island and Ushio besides the surface-level “family” and “love” that the creator wrote it into—it goes to show how little the creator thought about this. And any “depth” that the series loves to remind people of is the poorly contrived ones like the relationship between Hizuru and her long gone but still exists in shadow form brother.

I simply can’t understand the praises for Summertime Render no matter how I look at it. The series is full of dull moments, weak characters, lackluster directing in action sequences, and artificially created drama. The captivating element from the beginning of Summertime Render was the mystery surrounding Ushio’s death. And Shinpei, the series protagonist’s relationship with her. It’s safe to say I was utterly disappointed with how it was all played out. The shift in direction prompted the series to take on a path that’s less about its original element that hooked the viewers in the first place, but more on the side of mindnumbing exposition dumps and boring action drama.

I like Ao Ashi.

What I like about Ao Ashi is the emphasis that in the world of football, not everyone is instantly a top star football player who only plays in the frontline like Lionel Messi or Cristiano Ronaldo. In the world of football, a team consisting of multiple talented players in different positions is what makes different players stand out and valuable in the eyes of many football enthusiasts. When a show like Ao Ashi breaks this false perception in the established norm media, it’s a welcoming thing to see because that means a show like Ao Ashi can explore other aspects of ... football other than the conventional route.

Ao Ashi begins like any other sports series: A high schooler who’s passionate about the sport he plays and strives to be the best at the sport in the hopes of going professional. Aoi Ashito is, by all means, presented to be the usual run-of-the-mill shounen sports series’ protagonist. A character who embodies all of the positive traits there can be. Thankfully, however, the series does break him down and allows him to go through transition phases and progression while maintaining the said traits. What differentiates Ao Ashi from other sports anime alike is the approach in which this is done. The show is very much grounded in reality. It doesn’t have the over-the-top edginess shenanigans to it like many other shounen sports series out there. This then in turn allows Aoi Ashito’s eventual growth as a player and as a person to feel authentic to the viewers.

In earlier episodes, besides the struggle in understanding his own capabilities as a football player, Ashito’s also weighed in by the burden he has on his mother and brother. The series emphasizes the importance of his family and how much they have sacrificed for his dreams. Ashito as a player and person is very much molded by his family’s influences. This is why he feels that if he doesn’t succeed in his dreams, it would be a waste of his family’s hard-earned money, time, and devotion to him. This level of investment that the series has for a part of Ashito’s motivation as a character is humbling to me. Because of the series' strong emphasis on this part of him, we can see why he acts the way he does and the drive he has for his passion. It’s this understanding that makes him much more nuanced than what it may appear on the surface. And the series isn’t afraid of reminding Ashito and the viewers about his upbringing from time to time, which is crucial to the journey that Ashito continues to undergo as a football player.

This anime develops Ashito and then immediately breaks him down.

Similar to Ace of Diamond, Ashito in this series goes through transition phases and that’s how the development of his character comes into play. Throughout the first half of Ao Ashi, we see how Ashito grows comfortable in his position and play style. He’s very forward-minded. All he ever wants to do on the field is to play the striker positions and score goals—a very typical depiction of main leads in football-related media. He wants to become the best of the best solely in that position and when he’s stripped of that position, he’s left distraught and breaks down. Ashito felt as if his soul was ripped from him because scoring goals and playing the forward position was all he ever conditioned himself to do. This further exacerbated his mentality when his friends and family in the past also encouraged him in his so-desired playing style. But changing his desired position also paved a way for a new perspective. Football is a team sport, which is why it was important for Ashito to finally grasp this concept. It’s part of his character development in the series. This also initiated a much-needed contemplation on his part. Upon reflecting on his past, Ashito realized he was selfish and naive before he entered the academy, and after he entered the academy. He realized he never understood what football was despite being his passion. He felt guilty for blindingly indulging in his friends and family’s trust and praises in him for all those years that he preached about becoming a renowned footballer. By playing in a fullback defender position, Aoi Ashito not only learned the lessons that were needed but also about himself—what defines him as a footballer and his abilities.

Ao Ashi as a sports anime presents things on a more microscopic level for viewers to understand. Ao Ashi’s majority of the episodes consist of demonstrating the sport on the side of tactical and strategic plays. But it’s largely presented through the eyes of Ashito as he’s the playmaker on the field. This also inevitably leads him to be a “protagonist” who lacks the fundamental knowledge of football even though he was recruited to a supposed prestigious football academy in Japan. Thus when watching the earlier episodes of the series, the pacing can feel really slow even though it’s decently paced given the amount of content from the original source material that was cut in the sacrifice of time. One can argue the quality of the series in this sense. Ao Ashi is very much on the side of presenting strategies, tactics, and how a game of football is played in different scenarios depending on each team’s approaches and the subtle tactical maneuverings on the field. In doing so, not only the pacing is slow, but it’s also at the risk of losing viewers’ attention if the emphasis on the tactical plays doesn’t interest them. For that, it’s up to each individual’s perception. But to me, this aspect of the series adds a great level of depth and it’s meant to be appreciated as there’s a level of enjoyment it holds.

The second major setback to Ao Ashi during the earlier episodes is that of animation–or lack thereof. What consists of the fluid animation is not of football matches or character movements, but of slide-show. The directing was subpar to the like of other Production I.G’s sports series. This inevitably adds to the detriment of some viewers' enjoyment. However, evidently, much of that is gone by the second half of the series. The newfound directing and animation reinvigorated Ao Ashi in my eyes. This is also compelled by the fact that the plot was solely focused on moving forward from its trial arc.

Much of Ao Ashi lies in the foundations of football. The ways in which some parts are presented aren’t something to be awed over as it does subsume to the wider anime tropes in some aspects. The characters are much of that case. And I can’t say that I’m fond of it. But it does its job given the writing of these characters is true and down to earth—one other thing that keeps the series from indulging into the edgy territory. In the end, the strong suits in Ao Ashi also compensate for it, which makes it more appealing in my eyes. All in all, I really do recommend Ao Ashi. It is something of its own and it does hold its own integrity to the likes of Haikyu and Ace of Diamond.

The biggest attraction to this anime is undoubtedly Zhuge Liang or Kongming as he goes by in this anime—which is also his courtesy name. Without Kongming, this anime would end up being a conventional story about a forthcoming artist navigating her way through this world. What Kongming brings to the anime is the bantering between the characters, the charm, the wit, and of course, his intelligence. Being one of the most renowned and respected statesmen and military strategists in Chinese history, Kongming brings what he does best: Surprise its viewers and its casts with his extraordinary execution of strategy and intelligence. But instead of demonstrating ... these aspects through war and battlefields, this anime demonstrates them through concerts, events, and, well, singing competitions.

Ya Boy Kongming takes the spin on the fact that after Zhuge Liang’s inevitable death, he is revived back into modern-day Tokyo in Japan. And in the populated streets of Tokyo, he quickly encounters Eiko Tsukimi, a young singer who dreams of bursting into the world with her passion for singing. Her possessing the natural talent for singing and having an incredibly soothing voice, she recruits Kongming as her advisor after just one singing session with him. A singing session that blew him away with her voice and heart. What follows is a journey we get to see Kongming in various ways using his mind to gain leverage for Eiko’s singing and performances. The anime doesn’t waste time showing this by implementing many of his well-known strategies and incorporating them into the show. One of his strategies that are used to the extent was his “creating something out of nothing”. In this particular instance, Kongming, without informing Eiko or her team, devised a plan that first exposed the malfunctions in Eiko’s equipment to the opposing band, causing the opposing band to lose their guards and further implementing their doubts of her as a threat to them. This also causes Eiko to fall behind in the competition as well, which then provokes the urgency that replaced the nervousness inside Eiko just moments earlier; and without her realizing it, the urgency brought the best out of Eiko and attracted the crowds from the opposing band just as how she did to Kongming during their first singing session.

Sometimes Kongming’s actions aren’t as plain and obvious to the viewers as in the example above. He could be out there doing simple day-to-day mundane things like giving three neatly adorned bags with sets of absurd, head-scratching instructions to Eiko and just leaves. Often left her confused over the meaning of his actions and it isn’t until much later that whatever he has done and executed was all part of his master plan. The dedication and appreciation from this anime for Zhuge Liang’s wit and intelligence are always on full display. It’s these aspects that really add to Zhuge Liang’s character and that’s easily what attracts me the most and brings a distinct flavor to what is otherwise a very conventional show.

This anime isn’t something to be awed over for its story and presentation. This anime, however, is one of those shows that’s to be watched in pieces. A few chunks of episodes at a time to truly appreciate and enjoy the quirkiness of Ya Boy Kongming.

If we were to streamline this anime down to its core and scrutinize it, removing Kongming and what he brings to the show entirely, the anime would simply be exposed as a conventional story about Eiko Tsukimi along with Kabe Taijin’s life as talented artists making their way through the industry. In fact, the structure of this show would fall apart without Kongming as the glue for all the major events in the plot taking place. We see that if Kongming isn’t on-screen or doesn’t have any major influences on the characters of this show, the anime falls apart in not only plot-wise but also in enjoyment as well. From the very beginning to the very tail end of the show, Ya Boy Kongming’s very existence relied on this pillar, and it’s this that makes Ya Boy Kongming limited because it doesn’t attempt to seek outside of its confinements. The show doesn’t have any thought-provoking themes, spectacular writing, or stunning and creative visual presentation to compensate for its overreliance on Kongming as a whole. Of course, when watching a piece of entertainment, enjoyment is the most crucial part of that experience. But it can also be argued that the opposite is true. Ya Boy Kongming is an enjoyable anime. It’s a show that does what it's best at and nothing more. Thus for all the praises that this series deserves, it still doesn’t justify a high score from me.

Score: 6/10

***THIS REVIEW CONTAINS SPOILERS***

Just like Studio Wit’s first project, Attack on Titan, Ranking of Kings succeeded in making waves across the anime community. In comparison to their other projects that I've watched, both series’ first couple of episodes contain some of the best attention grabbers in anime. Ranking of Kings in particular excelled in selling profound and heavy emotions to the viewers. After all, Ranking of Kings is a story about a child who was born with physical disadvantages and his struggle in the journey to becoming someone who would gain respect from everyone. The way Ranking of Kings manipulates its viewers is by demonstrating ... Bojji’s tough inner will as an inherently weak person. This results in the earlier episodes being incredibly inspirational to watch. However, the constant usage of tears and plot conveniences throughout the show abates the actual message that the series tried to convey.

It all starts with Kage, a creature with the appearance of a black puddle whose clan was wiped out for the sins the family members committed in the past. Kage was generally hostile all-around before witnessing Boiji’s heroic losing fight against Diada. Even though Bojji was broken to the bones by his brother during that gut-wrenching sword fight, Boiji’s unwillingness to give up stirred up emotions within Kage. And later, their heartfelt swore of comradery scenes brought more emotions to the screen for the viewers. It was genuinely a good sequence because it was moving. But like I said, the show was dependent on this aspect too much. You’ll see Bojji and Kage cry again; the supporting characters like Apeas and Domas also shed a tremendous amount of tears throughout the show, which isn’t as nearly focused or emotionally developed as the other two. The issue lies with these scenes is that they’ll be used in situations that aren’t required later on. These later scenes don’t hold the same thematic values that the earlier episodes entailed. Which then significantly deteriorates the overall quality of the show for me.

Once King Bosse died, Bojji’s stepmother, Queen Hiling, ousted Bojji as the next in line to the throne and put her son, Prince Daida on the absent throne instead. This setup created an interesting conflict between the two brothers. Bojji, who, by the rule of Daida, was kicked out of the kingdom and begin his journey for the eventual return and confrontation with Daida.

I would argue that the stronger parts of Ranking of Kings aside from the earlier episodes were the ones focused on Prince Daida and his dynamic with his big brother, Bojji. Even though the show is about Bojji’s journey in becoming a king, his story isn’t exactly new or innovative either. But Ranking of Kings did have one massive potential in the character of Daida. The inner conflict and vulnerability of Daida’s character provided the needed nuances in the show more than Bojji ever did. And the earlier episodes demonstrated some promises when Ranking of Kings presented some elements of contrast between the two, unlike brothers. However, the anime then stopped exploring Daida’s character and added the character of Miranjo.

Once the original potential of the plot was shifted by taking Prince Daida out of the equation, a new antagonist was introduced: Miranjo. This part of the narrative was the least interesting shift plot-wise because we learn that Miranjo was just a tragic girl who wanted nothing more than just to make her savior, King Bosse, happy. The gist of Miranjo’s relationship with the previous king is that of atonement by King Bosse. After he failed, however, it was Bojji and Daida who ultimately saves Miranjo. And because Daida, who supposedly have seen Miranjo’s tragic past, decided to marry her out of pity. This is where I lost it. The more Ranking of Kings continued, the more the series derailed from its initial promises. Initially, Ranking of Kings presented some of the most interesting character explorations of Daida, the story of the conflict between the two unlike brothers, and they were all thrown out of the window for a tragic girl plot!

This is along with Bojji, whose journey is filled with noticeable plot conveniences. It’ll become very apparent later that Ranking of Kings ceases to be what it once was because the show shifted from a genuinely inspirational story to a show full of fake deaths and superficial emotions. There are numerous times when a character in the series got revived back to life after suffering a major death blow. This is all done through Queen Hiling, and later, through some bullshit circumstances without a clear-cut explanation, Bojji too. I swear every single episode in the second half of Ranking of Kings has a scene or two where someone gets killed. Dead. But got revived back to life because it was supposed to have resonated with strong emotions. The constant usage of this dying and reviving undeniably annoyed me because it took away the good tension and story that the first couple of episodes established. Oh, Boiji also learned his way of sword fight that shatters armors and bigger opponents with just a tiny needle. Yeah, that’s bullshit.

Score: 5/10

86 tells the story of discrimination, human rights, and the moral values that are built on the societal structures that were put in place. 86 as a series is the byproduct of a liberally indoctrinated ideal society. In liberalism, one of the fundamental values it believes in is the rights of human beings and the unquestionable equal treatment of all people. But of course, that is impossible to achieve because discrimination will always be present. 86 demonstrates these aspects clearly through the first cour and a bit more in the second cour.

This is why 86 is very typical. We have seen these types of ... stories from other entertainment mediums: be it books, live-action TV series, films, and most importantly, history. The series as a whole offers nothing more insightful that goes beyond the usual tragic tales of the oppressed. As I progressed through this series, I began to form an overall arching question: What’s the point? The series incorporates the element of contrast between the Federal Republic of Giad and the Republic on the treatment of human rights. Yet, the hypocrisy is still there. On the one hand, the newly formed country of Giad proudly claims that they’re different from the Republic. They claim that they treat everyone, even the foreigners which are the Spearhead Squadron, the same. But the soldiers alongside the members of the squadron and some of its citizens despise them by blaming and ill shaming. This is all true in the real world, but what are the changes that are needed to be made to alter this type of behavior in a rigidly constructed society? I feel that for a series that has delved into this aspect needs to continue exploring it. Because as of currently, 86 as a entertainment is utilizing these elements in its narrative to victimize and only victimize. 86 is manipulating the viewers by giving in to the never-ending victimization, to squeeze out the emotions of the viewers because the series has no affirmative values to offer other than the surface-level presentation.

The victim-playing aspect becomes even more apparent during the turning point of the second half of 86 Part 2. During the turning point, 86 chose to shift the focus away from it. By shifting the focus away from continuing exploring for possible solutions to the problems at hand, the series is telling us that it doesn’t have affirmative answers. To which, in my eyes, this is no different than any other liberal media that have presented the same stories that contained the same themes as 86. This is where my problem lies with 86 as a series. I understand what the series is trying to portray, but I can’t help to feel that I’ve seen these types of shows before. I can’t help but feel that the same old themes and message that the series is trying to convey are not offering any distinctive answers; or in any profound way in its presentation. And over time, I can only predict that it’ll lose its meaning. In a world where these types of stories are saturated into our everyday lives, I can only see 86 as something that’s nonunique and nonrevolutionary when it had the potential to do so. I’m not saying 86 is downright terrible or utterly bad, but what I’m saying is that the series as a whole feels redundant given the field that 86 is playing in. To me, it’s upholding the same old status quo regarding the executions of its narrative and themes while not offering anything new for me to ponder over.

In consideration of its characters, 86 is at times feels more worth the investment when the series has little moments that are dedicated to the characters--specifically, the Spearhead Squadrons. When the series spends an episode or two on the character study of someone like Anju Emma, Shinei, or Raiden Shuga, it gives more insight into the minds of these characters. We get to learn more about their personas beyond being soldiers and apathetic war machines. I find that when the series utilizes their past to develop the people they are today is more interesting to watch because there’s a huge potential for explorations and again, character study. One of my major problems with the first installment of 86 was that I found Lena to be distracting and uninteresting. But by taking Lena away and focusing the narrative around someone like Emma—who’s not privileged and ignorant like Lena—it creates more compelling reasons for me to care and give a damn. However, I lament that part 2 doesn’t present enough of it. And that the increase in character dynamics between the rest of the cast and Lena will further decrease my liking of the series as a whole.

Overall, 86 is still a solid series that has a decent amount of attractive elements in its narrative and characterizations. But at the same time, it has nothing that innovates this media as others would claim it does. I find it very typical of how series like 86 in presenting themselves. I guess what I’m saying here is that 86 could’ve been a series that offers a more unique way for us to think about its presentation of its message and themes. If only 86 could be that unique.

Score: 5/10

The title is misleading. Well, sort of, just not in the way you think.

When I first glanced at the promotional picture of My Senpai is Annoying, along with its anime title, I instinctively thought the “annoying” part was applied to the big, muscular guy in the promotion picture: Futaba Igarashi’s senpai, Harumi Takeda. I thought this show was going to center its gags, plot, and moments around Takeda actively teasing and annoying Igarashi to no end. I was proven wrong. The “annoying” part is really from the perspective of Igarashi. In the office space that she has been working in for the past two ... years, Igarashi wants to impress her co-workers and her senpai. It’s the natural thing to do. But given her unusually short height, cute, and charming personality, Igarashi’s co-workers and her senpai often make fun of her in a light-hearted demeanor. They, including Takeda, appreciate Igarashi’s driven personality and dedication to her work, of course. So one of the ways they acknowledge Igarashi is by interacting with her in a manner that makes her think they’re just teasing her. And the anime emphasizes this in clever ways. But as the series progresses, Igarashi also realizes this and plays along. The bonding moments between Igarashi, Takeda, Touko Sakurai, and the other co-workers make up the large majority of the wholesome moments.

What I like about this show is that the moments of wholesomeness, interactions, and developments feel natural. The chemistry between Igarashi and her supporting cast is just right. Their personalities and quirks play off each other nicely. When all these elements play well together, it makes the romantic pieces between Igarashi and Takeda, Sakurai and Kazama, feel genuine.

An anime isn’t complete without a great cast of voice actors who fit the personalities of the characters in their roles. As Japanese voice casting normally goes, the voice castings are more often than not fit the characters up to a T. Take Takeda, for example. Takeda has the voice of a deep, raucous, yet gentle tone. The multi-tone shift that the voice actor of Harumi Takeda can convey gives more liveliness and affection to the big guy that Takeda is. The same goes for Igarashi, Sakurai, Kazama, and so on. Each of the character archetypes is accompanied by the right voices. My Senpai is Annoying is episodic, which adds another positive aspect to this anime because the series utilizes this structure in a crafty way. While each of the episodes is structured individually to continue its episodic entertainment, there are still threads within the narrative that connect one episode to the next. Because of this type of presentation, the characters, and narrative have a feeling of progress rather than being stagnant.

My Senpai is Annoying is one of those shows in a season that can’t go wrong. It’s a fairly conventional series that follows the formula of its predecessors, and just like them, it’s a blast to watch this anime.

Score: 7/10