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Each short episode of Tonari no Seki-kun is built on a similar foundation: Seki plays some comically elaborate game in the middle of class, and Yokoi, his more studious neighboring classmate, invariably gets sucked into what he's doing, to the point where she often becomes even more invested in it than him. That’s it. This seems like a fairly limited premise, but it provides a great framework with a surprising amount of comedic range for Seki to play in. The results are almost always a blast.

The games Seki plays each episode range from staging complex, twist-laden wars with unconventional shogi play to bringing an actual ... bag full of cats into class. There are episodes where he’s seen building crazy Rube Goldberg machines right in the middle a lecture. He never really speaks outside of determined grunts and the like, but there’s a ton of expression put into the way he reacts to the various scenarios he concocts. There’s a sadistic edge to how he goes about his games and the way he crafts his fiction that makes him a great foil for Yokoi to play off of.

Yokoi's reactions to these scenarios are diverse and keep her from becoming a stock overreaction character. More of a protagonist than Seki is, the episodes are generally filled with her internal narrations. She’s sometimes quite taken by Seki's more sensitive side, only to be crushed when he reverts to his usual, harsher self. Other times the plots of Seki's games become so grim that she finds herself becoming engaged in them, in an attempt to steer them towards happier directions. There’s a running gag involving a robot family that Seki often brings to class, for example, that he often puts in dangerous situations or will just mistreat in general. Yokoi gets really attached to Seki’s narrative for this family and will put herself at risk of being caught by the teacher just to help sway their fate in the direction she wants. Of course Seki doesn’t just take this lying down and it becomes a fun battle for the outcome of these toy robots. And this is all while she’s trying her best to study! It’s a lot of fun seeing the creative ways she gets whisked away from this each episode. They play off each other really well and make for a great comedic duo. Also Yokoi is like totes adorbs.

Presentation works wonders in capturing the comedic idiosyncrasies of the scenarios. The dramatic score and aggrandizing theatrics elevate these silly games to the status of tense, mortal conflicts. Effortlessly pulling the audience into the characters' skewed sense of priority; the result is entertaining at every turn. Kana Hanazawa puts in a great performance as Yokoi, capturing the huge swings in emotion that Seki puts her through wonderfully. Fans of silly faces will find a lot to like here as well, as the show has a huge array of them that it uses really well to heighten the comedy. There are many places in the show where the creators went above and beyond, like giving the robot family their own theme song in the style of old mecha anime, or depicting shogi games as actual wars, acting out Seki’s stories. Even the OP and ED play out like skits from the show. The OP in particular is a clever meta piece about Seki actually animating Tonari no Seki-kun in class. A lot of subtle ingenuity went into making this simple premise a lot more than it seems.

If there’s anything to complain about in this show, it’s that the show does have some rare instances where the punchlines can start to feel a bit samey. There are some recurring skits and although they still remain endearing, the edge of their punchlines are dulled on each successive rehash. It’s nothing too bad though and the short run time of the episodes makes these skits more of a fleeting occurrence before you’re back to something new again, but several of them did start to lose a bit of their luster for me by the end. They might even give the series a nice sense of continuity for some though, so your mileage may vary.

Minor quibbles aside, this is an incredibly solid comedy. Seki and Yokoi have a great dynamic together and the show by and large does a superb job giving them varied situations to bring out the most in their personalities. Coupled with the grand presentation of it all, it’s easy to be whisked away into Seki’s antics just as Yokoi is. I doubt many will regret their time playing with Seki, especially without the risk of being caught by the teacher.

It would be a mistake to think of Virgin Night as just another typical sleazy hentai anime. Sure, the premise of some average teen wanting to lay his too-cute-for-him girlfriend for the first time doesn’t sound exceptional to standard hentai fare, but a healthy dose of subtlety and a real sense of genuine affection elevates this schlocky sounding premise into being a perfect portrait of awkward adolescent love. Seriously.

The first thing you’ll notice when starting this short OVA is, well, the boyfriend kissing his girlfriend and fondling her breasts. Stick with me though, it’s actually good! There’s not really any glorification or fetishizing to the ... act, it’s actually portrayed in a suitably uncomfortable light. He fumbles around uncertainly, she is visibly shaking and wears a nervous, conflicted expression, his mind is racing with whether or not he should even be doing this, she clearly doesn’t know how to respond to his advances despite loving him; all of this culminates in his doubts overtaking him and hurriedly backing off, leaving the act unfulfilled and heading out to go rent a movie.

This short scene sets the tone wonderfully for the rest of the OVA. His intentions laid bare, it drenches everything that follows in awkward contemplation. A large chunk of this OVA is simply them silently walking to go pick up a movie. It’s very slow paced and atmospheric and tense. The color palette here and throughout is typically muted and naturalistic, lending itself well to the moodier atmosphere of the anime. A lot of attention is payed to small mannerisms and body language that communicates their muddled thoughts effortlessly and through this, their silence says more than words could hope to. Something as small as her somewhat forced smile and chipper voice disrupting the stark atmosphere when suggesting that a movie might be interesting conveys a lot about her and the reassurance she’s trying to give to her boyfriend. The characterization of these two is kind of limited, as this is a very short story, but it thrives on the commonplace and these small details. The things they’re feeling are just so ordinary and both characters are very easy to relate to right off the bat because of this.

The framing of shots is similarly understated. Take the unassuming scene of them stopping to pick up snacks on the way home. A close shot of the boyfriend deep in thought, occupying himself by pretending to read a magazine, while his girlfriend lingers in the background is a great visual summation of his current mindset. A shot centered on her large breasts pushing up against her leg when browsing for food may seem like a typically lewd hentai shot, but it’s followed by a brief pillow shot, then a cut of him looking even more uncomfortable and doubtful than before, likely consumed by thoughts of whether he’s worthy of such a pretty girl at the sight of this, if someone like that can even love him enough to have sex with him. To be sure, there’s some lust mixed into his expression as well, but that’s only natural for someone of his age. It’s a very conflicted expression. Even the shot of them silently walking out of the store, which almost seemed to have served as a brief respite where they could idly distract themselves from the situation at hand, carries the weight of them heading home and having to deal with these thoughts concretely. These things aren’t expressed via monologue or anything so basely on-the-nose as that, it’s all in the body language and formal subtlety of the shots.

And even the sex is great! Not because it’s super sexy or anything because it’s really not. It’s probably the zenith of uncomfortable scenes in the OVA. But it’s also filled with genuine meaning and is brought to life with more of that amazing subtlety I mentioned earlier. There are long stretches where the two simple stare at each other, gauging each others thoughts. The pace of it is arguably just as slow as when they were slowly walking to the video store, and the tension even more severe. After he is nearly devastated by doubt to the point of backing off again, she quickly grabs his arm, plainly revealing that she was fraught with similar emotions as him the whole time. This was hinted at before in many of the moments described above, but up until now the anime made more of a marked effort to put you into the male character’s headspace; a clever way of actualizing the overwhelming uncertainty present up until this point, and of giving this small revelatory gesture the large impact it deserves. It’s just an incredibly beautiful moment, even if the grabbing of an arm is the kind of thing you see often in romance anime. What makes this instance particularly special is just how earned it feels. Every awkward moment, every slight facial expression, all of that tension reaching its breaking point to where she can’t help but express it more bluntly. This brings about a sort of mutual understanding, for them and the audience, and they scene continues as they consummate it. The whole thing is just brimming with intimacy and heart. The animation during this sex scene even uses fewer looped sequences than you may be used to seeing from hentai. There’s a great attention to detail in how each of them moves and reacts to one another. It’s all very natural and tender. Coupled with the sheer tension of the whole thing, it makes for a spellbinding viewing experience, a glimpse into a small yet significant moment in these characters’ lives as if we’re not even there. Free from the fetishistic leering you’d often find in its hentai ilk. So while it’s not really fap material, I think it stands tall as one of, if not the best sex scene I’ve seen in anime.

And the ending is simply sublime. A perfect release of all that built up tension, all in just a few lines of dialogue and some of that fantastic body language. I’ll leave that unspoiled though because I feel I may have gone into too much detail already, but it’s legitimately extremely heartwarming and I couldn’t help but smile. This OVA is a perfect snapshot into a very particular place and time of adolescence, and I can’t recommend it highly enough. Universal and subtle. Watch it.

You Shoumei Bijutsukan Line is an unusual ga-nime featuring a mix of You Shomei's minimalistic paintings, an equally barren soundscape courtesy of Nakai Yuu, and tranquil live action sections peppered throughout.

You's artwork here invariably consists of two horizontally split halves, creating a line effect in the middle of which this ga-nime is eponymous of. Sky comprises the top half, a seemingly perfectly flat surface on the bottom: both largely featureless but characterized by gentle gradients and soft colors. These stark landscapes are punctuated by lone objects, vaguely reminiscent of their respective real-life counterparts. Abstract at first, these objects take the shape of minuscule, dark rectangles— ... then later more defined structures— like a primitive church or what appears to be a lighthouse. These staunchly geometric shapes, while diminutive compared to the vastness of the landscapes they're up against, carry a strong effect. Paintings depicting a tiny black rectangle, dwarfed by such monolithic environments; evoke feelings of loneliness and powerlessness. There's a strange, unsettling beauty that permeates You's otherworldly and desolate art.

There's no actual animation to speak of in You Shoumei Bijutsukan Line. Slow pans and zooms do their job to accentuate certain aspects of the paintings, but there's nothing beyond that in terms of animation techniques. However, You's motionless world is brought to life aurally in a big yet understated way. Whether it be slow and ethereal drones, reverb-drenched bass notes that quietly interrupt the predominant silence, or arrhythmic electronic galloping: the largely neutral paintings are given tone and feeling by their audio counterpart. A simple house becomes a lugubrious figure at the hands of high-pitched synth moans. It gives the sense that the art and music were designed to go together since the production's conception. Whether this is the case or not, the impeccable marriage of sight and sound is to be truly admired.

The live action segments, on the other hand, are a bit of a mixed bag. Most of them consist of one man in an almost entirely empty white room, slowly, slowly soliloquizing. Paradoxically, these segments have a tendency to be both cloyingly cryptic and preachy at once. For example, there's a scene where the actor sheds a single tear as he slowly gropes the bare white floor, lamenting "The land continues to suffer", apropos of nothing. It would not be hard for one to make a case for this being pretentious, but even beyond that, it's more than just a little cringe-inducing. Although these segments were probably intended to give the audience greater perspective on the author's intent, these ancillary segments manage to shoot holes in the otherwise stellar ambiance. The art would have been better off if allowed to speak for itself.

However, these segments are not totally without merits. For example, there's one scene where it cuts from the glacially-paced painting segments to a live action clip of an ant frantically fighting for its life in a glass of water, paired with exaggerated splashing sound effects. While it's tough to parse any concrete meaning from this, the effect of the juxtaposition is subconsciously very affecting. Moments like this one provide ample justification for You's choice in medium, as this effect could not have been accomplished by merely hanging his paintings up in a gallery.

What does this all amount to? Well, a pretty neat slab of atmosphere, for one. A unique marvel— the enlivening of a traditionally static medium— for another. And finally, sight and sound conspiring together in a wondrously meditative vein. Minor shortcomings aside, immersing yourself in You Shoumei's world is a worthwhile endeavor.

There's something inexplicable about Yuyushiki that makes it a difficult sell. Frankly, the premise of "three girls goofing off" is about as original as "three guys walk into a bar". Furthermore, a considerable number of the jokes are patently unfunny, and the characters will probably find themselves laughing more often than the audience will. On paper, Yuyushiki sounds like every other largely forgettable 4-koma slice of life adaptation out there. So what makes Yuyushiki stand out in a veritable sea of similarly themed shows? Quite a lot, actually.

To start, good character dynamics are paramount in these plotless slice of life shows, and in that respect, ... Yuyushiki delivers in spades. Yuzuko is a somewhat typical, perpetually ebullient character, and is often the instigator of Yuyushiki's humorous situations, while Yukari is more of an airhead and quick to get caught up in Yuzuko's antics. Yui, the tsukkomi to Yuzuko and Yukari's boke, is the more serious of the three, and generally the one to keep the conversations somewhat grounded. Respectively, none of the girls really stand out from the ilk of their genre, but the sum of their personalities constitute a very natural and thoroughly entertaining rapport with one another.

The bulk of Yuyushiki is dedicated to the frankly inane conversations among these three friends. The way their conversations veer wildly, often at the whims of Yuzuko, from one nonsensical topic to the next is always surprisingly natural. They change their cadence in an attempt to make one another laugh, pull innocuous little pranks on each other, and repeat meaningless phrases until they become funny; all typical things that most kids would be guilty of, but it's more in the way that Yuyushiki portrays them that makes it special. An illogical joke suddenly becomes infectiously hilarious when all three girls, even the comparably stern Yui, burst into unwarranted and uncontrollable laugher. Heck, even something as commonplace as the word "potato" is enough to set them off.

Despite all the goofiness, Yuyushiki is perhaps at its best when the girls exhibit moments of genuine introspection. Lurches in the girls' conversation frequently lead to surprisingly serious topics, ranging from their plans for the future to their thoughts on death. These moments serve as subtle yet invaluable reminders that the girls are more than mere comedic devices, adding more depth to these small understated moments. Of course, it isn't long until the show shifts back to its pervasive silliness, but these fleeting moments are particularly memorable nonetheless. All of this conversational inanity and brief stints of sincerity culminate as an experience that is surprisingly realistic and easy to relate to. There's something particularly endearing about the way Yuyushiki effortlessly draws you into its lackadaisical atmosphere; it's simply a delight to spend time with these characters.

With that said, Yuyushiki's sense of humor certainly won't appeal to everyone. A large portion of the jokes simply aren't funny, as the emphasis is often on the absurd journey it took to get to the punchline rather than the actual destination. In fact, many of the jokes don't even have a punchline - which in the context of Yuyushiki's jocular gait could even be seen as the punchline - so those looking for a more traditional joke/punchline structure might be left dissatisfied. However, for those able to embrace the unusual comedic stylings of Yuyushiki, they will be rewarded with a truly unique and charming experience.

Yuyushiki pulls through with formal excellence as well. Every little detail contributes to the joke. The colorful palette lends itself well to the genial atmosphere, and the animation, while unassuming, reveals marked craftsmanship upon close examination. Great care was taken into making small gestures and slight cues in body language as fluid and authentic as possible. Simple jokes are often elevated by a unique framing of the shot or a perfectly timed change in perspective. In many ways, Yuyushiki's production values are inextricably linked with the actual content of the show, but it does so in a very unobtrusive manner that can be easy to miss providing one isn't looking for it; ideal for this type of show, really.

In closing, Yuyushiki takes a simple premise and adds its own signature flair. It's easy to forget you're watching a show that is essentially about nothing when the experience is as fun as Yuyushiki is. With a wonderfully laid-back mood, some of the best character dynamics in recent memory, and topnotch production values, Yuyushiki is a show that is head and shoulders above most of the genre. Give it a chance! You won't regret your time spent goofing off with the cast of Yuyushiki.

..."potato"

A simple litmus test for how much merit one might find in Sparrow's Hotel can be done by the brief uttering of one of its jokes: "Cute girl with large breasts is good at fighting". Now, if you are presently convulsing in laughter with tears in your eyes and a pain in your sides at the mere thought of that "joke", boy are you in luck, Sparrow's Hotel uses that joke repeatedly! Hell, it's the only joke it has! None of that pesky "variety" garbage to encroach on your love affair with that perfect, solitary joke. As such, Sparrow's Hotel's doubtlessly masterful sense of humor ... will remain laudable for as long as one finds this lonesome joke funny. For most of us, however, that moment will arrive mere seconds into the first episode.

Sayuri Satou, a busty and overly capable bouncer for a successful hotel, is somewhat renowned for her eccentricity and her overzealousness. She tends to go overboard and treat the simple task of calming the guests as that of an assassination or something of comparable severity. That is the entire premise. The meat of Sparrow's Hotel rarely strays from this barebones scenario. Various quirky characters occasionally enter the fray, but they are similarly marred by being one-note affairs. For instance, the sis-con is characterized entirely by his unhealthy affinity for his sister, and the grizzled biker character never diverges from his trite archetype. This isn't necessarily an inherent flaw - better comedies such as Cromartie High School have thrived on this sort of characterization - but the jokes associated with these characters are just as banal as their cardboard cutout personalities would suggest. It'd be a stretch to even consider incessant reoccurrences like Satou fervidly beating up gangsters a joke, but Sparrow's Hotel sure tries its darndest to frame it as one. And as one might expect, the results are invariably poor.

In terms of presentation, Sparrow's Hotel started out as something unique. The show had an art direction straight out of the early 90s, but even by those standards, it would've been hopelessly deficient. The animation was choppy and innumerable corners were cut, resulting in a product that the director even had to apologize for on account of how shameful it was. While this would have looked bad in the 90s, it feels entirely alien in 2013. Being remarkably bad is hardly commendable, but it made the show almost worth watching just to marvel at the fact that this was a show that existed in today's modern anime climate. "Almost" being the operative word there. "Was" being the other, because Sparrow's Hotel abruptly changes its art direction to a rounder style that is more in line with modern sensibilities halfway through the series. While it might sound like a positive turn of events, it takes away the only thing that made the show noteworthy: all we're left with is the comedy, and we already know how that turned out.

And that's the long and short of it. Sparrow's Hotel is an abject failure of a show in every respect. Avoid like the plague.

There’s a reasonably well-justified tendency among anime fans to hastily dismiss the potential merit of any permutation of the whole “cute girls doing cute things” motif that’s so nauseatingly ubiquitous in modern anime. In recent times, we’ve had a spate of these lusterless shows - whether it be “cute girls climbing mountains!” or “cute girls that are actually anthropomorphic guns or something!” - and the results are nigh-invariably uninspired dreck that’s not worthy of anyone’s time. With this in mind, it’s only natural to approach the simple premise of “cute girls driving tanks” with caution. It is against all odds, then, that Girls und Panzer ... manages to not only be worthwhile, but also one of the most consistently entertaining shows in recent memory.

Girls und Panzer’s story is a simple one. Schools from around the world compete in a sport called Sensha-do, or “way of the tank.” In this universe, "tankery," as it is colloquially known, is seen as a dignified martial art that helps girls hone their grace and femininity. Miho Nishizumi, the protagonist of this story, was a very capable captain of Sensha-do in her previous school, but due to a traumatic experience in the semi-finals of the previous Sensha-do tournament, she distanced herself from the sport by transferring to a school that doesn’t participate in the Sensha-do, Ōarai Academy. Unfortunately, her new school takes up Sensha-do soon after her arrival. Even more unfortunate is that the school council is aware of her accomplished past as a commander and coerce Miho into being the captain of this newly established Sensha-do unit. While the sheer implausibility and silliness of this premise can be seen as the show’s greatest detriment, it is simply a plot device necessary to get the girls into some tank battles, which is definitely where this show shines brightest.

The tank battles, simply put, are amazing. Takaaki Suzuki, the military adviser for Girls und Panzer, shows a great understanding of the ins and outs of tankery. As the rules specify, each tank needs to be of World War 2 vintage or older. These tanks are presented with great accuracy and attention to detail, each one having their strengths and weaknesses based on their real life counterparts. The battles themselves are often loosely based on real historical battles, generally involving Ōarai playing the underdog, and each one taking place at various unique environments. The many distinct and varied locations coupled with the accurate depiction of each tank lends itself well to some genuinely engaging strategies, both from Ōarai and their opponents, and are genuinely exciting to watch. As these battles are loosely based off historic events, many of Ōarai's schemes mirror well-known strategic maneuvers and consequently remain both entertaining and satisfying to witness unfold.

With that said, this is hardly a serious anime about battling tanks; the excitement incited during these battles is enhanced twofold by how infectiously silly and fun the different girl's personalities are. In stark contrast to their competition, the girls of Ōarai Academy are a convivial bunch. They paint their tanks pink, do an embarrassing dance to improve morale, and cherish friendship over winning the match. Cheesy, right? Well, it is, but the show embraces this cheesiness in a way that makes it feel genuine and endearing. What makes Girls und Panzer’s comedy so special is that it’s never afraid to laugh at itself and how preposterous its premise is. Each tank on Ōarai’s side has a team of operators amusingly framed around their unique clique. For example, one team is composed of gamers who approach Sensha-do in a similar way that one approaches a video game. Another team consists of history buffs who romanticize past historical battles and leaders, attempting to emulate them with their hilariously over-the-top antics. Ōarai’s opponents are similarly depicted as caricatures of their respective nations, such as the British team being refined in composure and perpetually drinking tea during the match, or the cocky American team that stoops to utilizing underhanded tactics. The battles contain a fair share of unorthodox stratagems that contribute to this pervasive sense of fun as well. Even when the girls of Ōarai are up against seemingly insurmountable odds, the show never loses touch of its deft sense of humor.

But Girls und Panzer isn’t all fun and tankery. During the time spent away from Sensha-do, the show does attempt to have a few more serious plot lines, which generally yields poor results. The show spends an inordinately long time attempting to set up its admittedly silly plot in a comparatively serious way, and falls flat on its face in doing so. Thankfully, this is only an issue for the first episode and a half, as the show picks up steam once it gets to the Sensha-do tournaments and generally takes itself less seriously. Due to the massive size of the cast, minor conflicts are dismissed almost as soon as they’re introduced. For instance, one minor arc involves a character who gave up the family business of arranging flowers to take up Sensha-do. This is met with harsh disapproval from her family, but is soon after entirely dismissed after her parents watch one of her matches. There isn’t any character development as the result of this, and the parent characters are never seen again in any meaningful context. It only serves as a shallow feel-good moment that slows down the momentum of the show. Most characters, while entertaining enough in the context of the group, are relatively two-bit and characterized solely by their unique quirk when looked at on their own merits. Miho is the only character to receive any real development, and even that plays out in a fairly predictable manner. However, these breaks from tankery only compose a very small fraction of the show. Most of Girls und Panzer’s episodes are dedicated to their engaging tank battles and, provided one is enjoying the ride, it becomes possible to overlook their fleeting, minor flaws in storytelling.

The animation and soundtrack are generally excellent and complement each other appropriately. The soundtrack marches with militaristic tunes that fit well with the action taking place on screen while the tanks are rendered using very detailed CG that looks great in motion. Unfortunately, some of the CG environments during the battles aren’t as well-realized as the tanks are, often appearing flat with repetitive textures. This is most apparent during the earlier episodes, where it’s clear that the production staff had a limited budget; CG heavy scenes are marred by a poor frame rate and the environments are at their worst. Fortunately, this is remedied as the show goes on and, by its final episodes, the show is an absolute delight to look at.

In the end, Girls und Panzer won’t make you re-evaluate the way you view anime or present you with a profound take on life, but what it does do is present a thoroughly entertaining and refreshing variation on the whole “cute girls doing cute things" theme. Despite its flaws, Girls und Panzer’s infectious silliness and engaging battle scenarios should have any viewer plastered with a permanent grin on their face, screaming “Panzer Vor!” for the duration of any given episode. It’s a simple pleasure, but one well worth the time.

Youth can be an incomprehensible and overwhelming deluge of new ideas and emotions. This sensation is most certainly heightened in the place that they amalgamate and coalesce: at school. Everyone has a different way of adapting to this, but they generally all fall under a similar guise: children simply try to fit in the best they can through the emulation of their peers. But then there’s people like Yuki Tachibana.

Elementary schooler, Yuki, goes his own way by instinctively distancing himself from the sheer inscrutability of youth. He perceives school life in a very different way than most. As Yuki sees it, there’s an assemblage of ... monsters working behind the scenes who are the cause of every major development within the school. When a kid almost drowns, Yuki surmises that the monsters were trying to pull him down. Even something as innocuous as a slight change in the students’ collective behavior is the clear result of the monsters’ manipulation, according to Yuki. Furthermore, because he acts out on these visions, he is ostracized by his peers and treated as a delusional kid in need of help by most of the school’s staff, leading Yuki to dismissively regard most adults as ‘rotten,’ thoroughly alienating himself in the process.

But Taiyo Matsumoto, the mangaka responsible for Gogo Monster, isn’t quick to reveal whether this is a truly supernatural occurrence that only Yuki is privy to, or if it’s all imagined in a subconscious attempt to rationalize his peers’ incomprehensible behavior. This duplicity is depicted in a masterfully expressionistic style that puts the reader into the same mental space as Yuki Tachibana. Drops of rain are given faces, people mutate into monsters, and the entire geography of the school evolves with its students’ collective worldview. Matsumoto’s line work is very sketchy and expressive, creating an suitably surrealistic atmosphere. When Yuki’s mental equilibrium takes a turn for the worse, the line work becomes hastier and the proportion of Yuki’s surroundings become progressively more skewed and abstract. Matsumoto also employs a very cinematic style, making use of frequent pillow shots and filmic pacing. This style is very characteristic of Matsumoto's work, but it's especially at home in Gogo Monster. All things considered, Gogo Monster is an unique and engaging experience start to finish, and that is in no small part due to Matsumoto’s idiosyncratic craftsmanship.

This unique presentation is hardly a novelty though, as it is all for the benefit of carrying out Gogo Monster’s proportionally peculiar story. In essence, Gogo Monster is Yuki’s coming of age story, albeit a very surreal take on the theme. Whether real or imagined, the monsters are the catalyst for Yuki’s growth as a character. Taken as a supernatural story, the monsters can be seen as an obstacle only Yuki can overcome, and becoming a stronger person in turn. Yet taken as a psychological story, one could easily view them as a defense mechanism employed by Yuki as a means of rationalizing his classmates’ behavior, or even a means of coping with his loneliness - some emotional problems that Yuki will have to overcome. It might even be a combination of both. In order to completely immerse the reader in Yuki’s world, the audience is only meant to understand as much as Yuki does. All of these lines of thought are equally poignant and intriguing, but it doesn’t become evident until the story’s beautiful resolution which is true - most of Gogo Monster is spent building its immersive atmosphere. What is consistent through this build up, though, is that it presents a rare insight directly into something as abstract as the mind of a youth coming into its own, and an incredibly distinct one at that.

Thankfully, Gogo Monster’s story isn’t nearly as impenetrable as this might suggest. The school’s caretaker is one of the few adults who is not ‘rotten' and provides a very valuable role model for the impressionable Yuki. Having worked at the school for many years, he has known many people with outlooks similar to Yuki’s - kids with a “special talent for seeing things the rest of us can’t see” - and is very sympathetic towards Yuki’s worldview, but he also hints that it is something Yuki will grow out of it soon. There’s a palpable uncertainty to the nature of Yuki’s visions, so the presence of the caretaker - a sympathetic and more objective third party - is in many ways the anchor that holds the story together, making Gogo Monster’s story a far more balanced and less overwhelming experience overall. Another source of balance can be found in Yuki’s few acquaintances, Makoto and IQ. Makoto is one of the few ‘normal’ kids who dares to reach out to Yuki in a rare attempt to truly understand what lies beneath his eccentric demeanor. Befitting of his name, IQ is a genius who's characterized by a similar proclivity to be a bit of an oddball recluse. He even hides his head in a box, which grows in size relative to the general conduct of his schoolmates, as a sort of defense mechanism. Being in a somewhat similar situation as Yuki, they find solace in each other at key points in the story. These three characters are paramount in instigating Yuki’s growth as a character and establishing a relatively neutral equilibrium, both for Yuki and the story as a whole.

At the end of the day, Gogo Monster flawlessly marries a complex coming of age story with an equally compelling presentation. It’s a rare example of something where its form truly reflects its content, and while both are something worthy of admiration on their own, the effect of them working in tandem as perfectly as they do is nothing short of awe inspiring.

Akage no Anne doesn’t seem to be a particularly grand story if one was to simply read the blurb - there are no dramatic plot twists, no tyrants to defeat, no epic quest spanning galaxies - it is just a very simple tale of a young orphaned girl coming to terms with herself and others.

Akage no Anne takes place in the late nineteenth century, in the fictional town of Avonlea on Prince Edwards Island, Canada. Here siblings Matthew and Marilla Cuthbert, both reaching into their 50's and 60's, are looking to adopt a boy of around 10 to help them with the farm work. ... The story begins with the very shy and soft-spoken Matthew heading towards the train station to pick up their new adopted boy, averting his eyes from every women he passes along the way. However, when Matthew arrives at the train station there is no boy to be found. Instead there is a freckled 11 year old girl with red hair, named Anne Shirley.

It is through this deceptively simple premise that Akage no Anne explores the many complex issues that arise during everyday life, with remarkable results. The broad scope in which it paints these complex themes is rather unassuming at first, but through the slow, naturalistic building of its large cast of characters and nuanced examination of the whys and wherefores of everyday life, Akage no Anne manages to achieve a magic that absolutely deserves to be experienced.

Anne, like many 11 year-olds, is a very flawed individual. She is obstinate, talks incessantly, and is very easily distracted. Her mood swings wildly from one moment to the next and she frequently prioritizes her latest whim over what really needs to be done. For years she carries an obdurate hatred of a certain character simply because he teased her once. Yet these are hardly the deplorable characteristics they may seem at first; rather, they are what makes her such a human character and, in turn, such a relatable one as well. Humans are naturally flawed beings and Anne is no exception. Nevertheless, these imperfections are hardly the unidimensional character traits one may have become accustomed to in anime. Her wild mood swings denotes her uniquely passionate temperament for the dramatic and the romantic. Distractions are often for the sake of more creative endeavors. Her whimsy is a large part of what makes her such an endearing character, both to those around her and the audience. Whenever Anne is given the chance to learn or experience something new, she always takes to the task with a great sense of purpose. All of these points considered, Anne is an incredibly realistic and human character, and you can't help but relate to her because of that.

And true to real life, Anne's depth of characterization, and rationalization of this characterization, takes root in the detailings of her past. Both of her parents died of typhoid fever when she was only three months of age. She was then placed into the care of the very poor Thomas family, only to be sent to live with the Hammond family and subsequently sent to an orphanage at an even later date. Throughout these early years of her life, she was often unfairly berated and forced to toil away at household chores day in and day out, never permitted to attend school or make any friends. It is through these harsh formative years that Anne's personality had already begun taking shape. She sought refuge from her unfavorable living conditions by escaping into stories, poems, books and her characteristic vivid imagination. The books and poems she had read established her penchant for theatrics and her lyrical soliloquies early on. She was never given the chance to experience many of the things the world has to offer, so she had to fill in the blanks of life with her imagination. Her imagination could also be seen as her only tool of contending with these tribulations by way of envisioning her standings in life as a much more extravagant, romantic one.

Most of this, however, isn't disclosed quite this explicitly in the actual show. Yes, Anne does go into her history briefly, but not in such great detail, and she certainly doesn’t dissect her past crucibles and their innate effect on her psyche; all of that is merely implicit. The writing at play here omits any superfluous details or things that can be easily ascertained by the attentive viewer/reader in favor of a more realistic approach of characterization. Things aren't learned by means of awkward expository dialogue, nor are they dictated via haphazard, unwieldy info-dumps - everything is simply conveyed to the audience in a very candid and natural manner, as if we were only peeking in on a small slice of their lives never intended for such a large audience. For instance, Anne’s compendious and slightly hesitant admission that her former caretakers “meant to be good to her” effortlessly says so much more about Anne than a more typical and unnaturally overt explanation of the same thing could ever accomplish. This graceful method of storytelling feels refreshingly alien in today’s modern anime landscape; the narrative is there for our exploring and Akage no Anne’s narrative is a very, very gratifying place to explore, start to finish.

Furthermore, the show wastes little time in establishing some of its interesting character dynamics. Matthew is almost instantly charmed by Anne upon meeting her and doesn't have the heart to tell her that they had asked for a boy. He’d rather leave that for Marilla to sort out. On the way to Green Gables, Anne recites these sprawling, melodramatic, nearly poetic speeches while Matthew just listens, enraptured. Anne's fanciful monologues serve as a perfect introduction to her unique world view: She details how much she hates her red hair, her love of romanticism, and how lovely it is to finally have a place she can call home, all the while frequently and impulsively changing the topic to whatever else catches her fancy at that exact fleeting moment. Although Matthew doesn't speak much during this carriage ride, his expressive face says more than words could ever say. It's an absolute delight to see how rapt he hangs on Anne’s every word and how quickly he becomes attached to this unusual little girl during their relatively short carriage ride home together when only moments earlier he was averting his eyes in fear in the passing of a few harmless women alongside the road. The effect is very understated but pulled off remarkably well. Thankfully, one can expect many more moments like this throughout the show.

On the other hand, Marilla, a much more pragmatic person than Matthew, isn't as keen on the idea of keeping Anne, initially. After all, the reason they wanted to adopt a kid in the first place was for help tending the farm, and the skinny Anne hardly seems fit for the job. Furthermore, Anne’s loud, dramatic, fanciful character is the polar opposite of the more subdued and sensible Marilla, so her idiosyncrasies are met with reproach at first. Still, after some careful deliberation following Anne and Marilla having shared a few bonding opportunities, it is decided that Marilla and Matthew will allow Anne to stay at Green Gables and Marilla would raise Anne as her daughter. Akage no Anne remains very much about Anne's coming of age, but the way the story accomplishes this is through a series of vignettes portraying the ups and downs of her everyday life. For the first time in her life, she is allowed to truly experience life and all that entails: going to school, making friends, and experiencing all the exciting little things in life that we might have come to consider mundane, making all the mistakes that children tend to make along the way. The way Anne grows from these experiences, though, is so natural, gradual, and nuanced that it can be easy to miss entirely until its climax creeps up on the viewer. The final moments of this series are so rewarding, so moving, so poignant in its magnificently understated beauty; all of these seemingly disparate and insignificant moments in Anne's life coalesce and culminate in ways that make each and every one of said vignettes at once meaningful, evoking a palpable warmth that could only have been achieved in this slow, naturalistic method of storytelling that Akage no Anne pulls off so well.

Still, this wealth of narrative excellence would all be for naught if just one of the nuts and bolts working behind the scenes were to fall out of place. A story can and will go to pieces if the pacing is just slightly off, so good storyboarding is vital. Scenes that were emotionally gripping or heartrending in the novel can be met with blasé dispassion if it that particular scene isn’t interpreted properly by the screenwriter and director. Skillful voice acting is absolutely integral in conveying the vast breadth of emotion present in this character driven story. Even the smallest oversight in the consistency in the setting can completely take a viewer out of the immersive quality. Storyboarding, screenwriting, direction, voice acting, music, art direction, and, especially in the case of Akage no Anne, a well researched setting are all integral apportioned components of a larger whole. If just one of those cogs isn’t working in perfect accordance with the rest, then the narrative, no matter how excellent, can falter irreparably into an inefficacious mess. It is fortunate, then, that Akage no Anne is every bit as exemplary technically as it is narratively.

As I see it, the reason that the novel upon which Akage no Anne is based on, 'Anne of Green Gables' by Lucy Maud Montgomery, has resonated with so many people around the world for over a hundred years now is in no small part due to its decidedly realistic approach of depicting the magic of everyday life. Isao Takahata, the director of Akage no Anne, is able to capture this magic brilliantly. The direction on display here is nothing short of awe-inspiring. While it would have been incredibly easy for Takahata to indulge in schmaltz or cheap melodramatics, the anime in adaptation never falls into emotional trickery or manipulation of the audience, despite Anne's habitually melodramatic disposition. Emotional moments are felt because they are genuinely emotional. Through the show’s slow and realistic pacing, we, the audience, grow to love the characters, cherish their bonds, and partake vicariously through their hardships and triumphs just as Anne and her new family do, very naturally. The way Takahata brings Anne's tribulations to life are easy to relate to precisely by the virtue of how inherently human every single aspect of them is and how informally they all play out. It doesn't matter where you are from, nor which era you are a part of, because everyone has felt the things Anne feels, and, in one way or another, experienced the same things Anne has. That kind of timeless, all-encompassing humanity has to be admired, and to that effect, so does Isao Takahata for capturing it.

It is, however, when the predominantly realistic tone gives way to the expressionistic reverie of Anne's imagination that Takahata’s artistry undoubtedly shines brightest. A brief carriage ride through a wooded path seamlessly metamorphosizes into a magical scene in which Anne is in an instant wearing a long, white dress, being lifted up into the sky by a geyser of flowers while this wondrous, fanciful orchestral tune plays; it's an absolutely stunning way of putting us directly into Anne's otherworldly fantasies. Anne's imagination is so fundamental to who she is that it only makes sense for Takahata to bring her thoughts to life existentially just as Anne envisions them. This extraordinary contrast between realism and expressionism is something that Takahata really excels at, and this motif of his has never had more suitable home to lay its proverbial hat than the in world of Akage no Anne.

The accuracy with which Montgomery's text is transformed into this dazzling piece of animation is without comparison. Takahata's flourishes aside, Akage no Anne is an almost word for word, gesture for gesture, scene for scene adaptation. The setting is well researched and just as described in the novel, with its scenic background art done in a lovely picturesque painterly effect. Hayao Miyazaki handles the scene setting and layout. Yoshifumi Kondo, who would later go on to direct the classic Whisper of the Heart, handles the simple yet serviceable character design that, as with just about everything else, is very accurate to the source material. Animation direction is handled by Kondo and if there is any weak link in Akage no Anne, animation is probably it. The show was made in 1979 and it shows, especially in some of the later episodes. It’s largely to be expected and never becomes too distracting, but it bore mentioning. Music is another area where it would have been incredibly easy for it to succumb to the pitfalls of cloying melodrama, but it’s fairly restrained, yet coolly affecting and melancholy when need be. Anne is a near inimitable character so Eiko Yamada’s spectacular interpretation of her is especially praiseworthy.

Still, there are several minor dis-similarities between the novel and anime, but outside of a few conspicuous omissions, I’m pleased to report that most of the changes were for the better. Akage no Anne makes incredible use of all fifty of its episodes, so some important character relationships are better fleshed out and a key part of Anne's life is given more care and attention than in the novel thanks to the anime’s lengthy run time. It’s such a rarity for an adaptation to even come close to equaling the quality of it’s source material, so the fact that Akage no Anne manages to by and large improve upon it’s source without losing an ounce of its magic merits special praise indeed, especially considering the prestigious stature of the Anne of Green Gables novel.

And everything comes together splendidly; each one of the aforementioned formal cogs amalgamate flawlessly with each other and with Montgomery’s already outstanding writing to form something truly timeless and deserving of being called a masterpiece. I've stressed humanity so much in this review because, ultimately, I think that’s what has made Akage no Anne resonate with such a large number of people around the world for so many years now. Its lasting popularity in modern day Japan - a place and time that couldn’t be further from nineteenth century Prince Edward Island, Canada - is a testament to this. Just as Anne had a profound effect upon the lives of those around her, she has truly had a similarly profound effect upon the lives of people around the world for generations upon generations now, and I imagine she will continue to do so for many more; and just that is Anne's greatest magic.