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I thought Zero no Tsukaima would provide nothing more than shallow entertainment, and I was quite wrong ... but its sequel, I decided, couldn't possibly live up to the standard set by the original. After all, Zero's effectiveness as a story may have been a fluke, a fortunate accident.

Fluke it was not, all told. I'd still recommend the series to anyone whose tastes seem to run in the general direction of fantasy/harem romance/politics. But despite its strong latter episodes, Futatsuki no Kishi does suffer from a few weaknesses its predecessor managed to keep to a minimum or avoid entirely.

Plot: Again we join Louise and her ... hapless familiar Saito at the Tristain Academy, where their relationship has grown marginally stronger. I have no complaints with how the whole inevitable Saito/Louise pairing is portrayed at first; we're given the impression that things have moved forward for the two, despite Louise's fondness for brandishing that riding crop, and it's an impression we need to be given if we're going to believe in the two as a viable and vital couple. When relationships hit a standstill in the real world, of course, things tend to go sour very soon after.

That said, one of the weakest points of the plot is its handling of the central romance. Louise and Saito make progress with one another in fits and starts, alternating between trite slapstick and almost extreme affection. It's the slapstick that bothers me most, partly because there's so damn much of it, and partly because the plot occasionally has to contort itself in unlikely directions simply to land Saito in unfortunate positions of lechery. Too many episodes are devoted not to progressing the underlying series of political events in any significant way, but to progressing Saito toward a pair of breasts, and Louise toward Saito and said breasts at just the wrong moment. And when they do get along, there are one or two moments of startling physicality that may make it a little difficult to fully appreciate (understandable as these moments may be, Saito and Louise being healthy teenagers and all).

Don't get me wrong, though. Futatsuki no Kishi does have its truly sweet moments. The last episode really nails it, but as it's the last episode, I'll refrain from singing its praises too loudly here.

Due to Futatsuki's focus on the central romance's sporadic twists and turns, the political storyline suffers -- a real disappointment to me, as the two arcs seemed to work so well together in the first season. The first half in particular often interrupts the continuity with breasts, Saito's appreciation thereof, and Louise's resultant disapproval. The shift toward politics in the second half feels like an abrupt temperature change at first, seemingly for the production team as much as we viewers, as the general organization of episodes seven and eight came across as a bit shoddy to me. When the suddenness levels out, however, we get a solid final four episodes. If you were a fan of the politics in the first season, hang in there; it's ultimately worth it.

Characters: I have two major problems with the characterization in Futatsuki, the first being inexplicable personality shifts. The first season gave us a surprisingly strong cast, and I looked forward to said cast developing further from where they left off, but this isn't always the case. Saito, for example, seems at times to have been demoted into your average, everyday pervert. Siesta's resolve to wrest Saito's affections from Louise isn't surprising, considering her acts of momentary boldness in the previous season, but her willingness to throw herself at Saito is a bit disconcerting. These divergences don't seem to be indicative of the kind of change one thinks of when discussing character growth.

Secondly, I didn't appreciate the marginalization of some characters. New characters Agnes and Julio ultimately earn our interest, but season one set Kirche and Tabitha up for a bit of explication, and we hardly see them at all this time around. I feel bad for Tabitha's seiyuu, having to make the trip down to the studio to record a grand total of three or so lines. With Tabitha and Kirche out of the way, it goes without saying that Guiche and Montmorency don't get much screen time, either.

On the other hand, those recurring characters who are further fleshed did good things for me. I couldn't help being interested in Colbert's history and plight, and Delfringher, who has to be the cleverest talking sword in all anime-dom, is even more hilariously pithy than before. Even Henrietta shows her many good and bad sides this time around.

Setting: Tristain Academy hasn't much changed, and, had the majority of the show been set therein, the place may have gotten old. Fortunately, we're introduced to a variety of locales as things move along -- a surprising number, really, considering how much of the plot is fanservice-centric (Saito doesn't let circumstances keep him down, so to speak). Our heroes visit such settings as an underground vault, a snowy mountain, and Louise's ample home, traveling between Tristain and Albion, the flying faux-Britain.

We also gain insight into the general level of technology with the introduction of Tristain's musketeers. Despite this title, the guns employed in Futatsuki are decidedly similar to rifles, in terms of accuracy; it seems that magic coexists with a higher level of technology than was previously made clear. By implication, this tautens the dynamic between aristocrats and plebeians, as those not gifted with magic are proven to be perfectly formidable marksmen. Perhaps the aristocrats' control is not as total as it seems.

Art: Futatsuki brings back the same clean, simple, Shakugan no Shana-esque art style as the original, retaining its reputation as the pastel equivalent of Shana's darkness and fire. Interestingly, the animation itself alternates between very good and shoddy, particularly where fight scenes are concerned, but it balances out in most episodes to be more than acceptable. I'm happy that J.C. Staff decided to forgo the use of 3D computer graphics in rendering flight sequences; such graphics have their place, that place being Last Exile and not here.

Sound: Based on music alone, I would have rated Futatsuki below its predecessor in the sound department. Music throughout the series often comes across as generic action fare, and besides, the opening and ending themes didn't do as much for me this time. Maintaining the score at 7, however, are certain scenes in which the voice acting is absolutely dead-on. Futatsuki's all-star vocal cast definitely delivers.

Verdict: Personally, I prefer my shows to be solid from beginning to end, rather than loaded with meaning, progress, and spectacle in the final four episodes. Either way, Futatsuki no Kishi turned out to be worthwhile thanks to that final stretch, particularly for a viewer who enjoyed the first season as much as I did. It's ultimately worth your attention as a follow-up to Zero no Tsukaima and a segue into the forthcoming season three, but be warned that it has its shaky spots.

I decided to watch Zero no Tsukaima because I wanted a leave-your-brain-out-of-the-equation sort of show, one I could sit back and watch without worrying about a negative outcome or depressing and/or disturbing complications. (Yes, for all my talk about artistic integrity and such, I do watch things for pure and simple fun sometimes.) Zero has most of that, but only to a point, and in the end I was pleasantly surprised at the amount of depth this show manages to pull out of nowhere. I went in expecting another Nanoha, or the first season of Shakugan no Shana all over again, and what I got ... was something more akin to the comedic romance and character development of Love Hina supported and sustained by the political intrigue of Last Exile or Simoun.

Plot: An incompetent mage summons as her familiar a young man from contemporary Japan, and hilarity ensues. It isn't quite as simple as that, however. Despite an early focus on slapstick comedy, ecchi, and outright silliness, Zero quickly introduces a thin political thread, providing bits and pieces of flavor to make the world seem more alive. This thread smoothly escalates into a significant driving force of the show's events, perhaps more powerful, even, than the central romance.

And speaking of that central romance, it moves along at a nice pace -- neither too slowly nor too quickly for a 13-episode series. Exactly how it develops is for you to discover, but rest assured that it does not remain stagnant for long periods of time, at least in this season, as in Shakugan no Shana and its sequel.

Characters: The cute, borderline-sadist lead; the busty, libidinous rival; the surprisingly forthright maid; the bookish, quiet Nagato Yuki clone -- these may seem like stock characters pulled from the harem romance pool, and they certainly begin as such. As in Love Hina, however, we discover that these characters have histories and unforeseen connections, sometimes in far darker ways than I expected of this show. What's more, many of these characters actually change over time, as characters in a story should. Sure, the cast seems a bit crazy at first, but give them a chance. It's worth it.

And the male lead. Oh, the male lead. Saito's personality is what makes him simultaneously hilarious and divergent from the usual harem romance/datesim beta-male loser. We get the impression that he checks out every girl who crosses his path not because he's hopelessly desperate, but because he's a healthy teenage boy. Not that he's relegated to the role of lecher; he has his human and hero moments, too.

Setting: Our story begins in your average Harry Potter-inspired magic school, complete with magic wands and quirky professors, but soon expands outward to encompass an alternate-history, magically-endowed Europe plagued by the class politics of magocracy -- that is, magi over non-magi. Though the central country of the show is fictional (apparently located roughly in the Aquitaine region of France), several real-world European powers have fantastical equivalents, often bearing the Latin names of the modern countries they mirror: Gallia is France, for example, and Germania is Germany. This becomes clear when we see a map of the fictional land. This world maintains interesting links to our Earth, but I'll leave it at that for fear of dropping spoilers. It's ultimately a surprisingly cohesive fantasy setting, and one to which I wouldn't mind returning.

Art: Zero's art is reminiscent of Shakugan no Shana, also produced by J. C. Staff, and to a lesser extent Pani Poni Dash. It's a style that grew on me when I watched Shana. If you're a fan of more realistic art in your animation, however, be warned that you won't find it here.

Sound: Despite being largely digital, Zero's music never quite descends into full-on cheesiness, as Shana's music did at times, nor does it overwhelm you with anachronistic elements unsuited to the vaguely Renaissance-inspired fantasy setting. The opening theme is quite catchy, for a reason I can't place, and as a fan of Kugimiya Rie and Hino Satoshi, I have trouble finding serious fault in the voice-acting.

Verdict: I didn't think Zero no Tsukaima would end up being the kind of show I'd be quick to recommend, but, to my pleasant surprise, it did. If you're looking for a tale of politics and romantic comedy, and don't mind that the ride isn't entirely serious from beginning to end, give this one a shot.