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In the early 00's, a still-young anime studio whose most notable projects up to that point were tie-in movies to successful anime from their parent company hired a mechanical designer to serve as director for an anime-original project, hoping to create a series that would set a new standard for giant robot anime when many would argue that had already been done. This is how RahXephon came to be, and the end result is as difficult to describe and discuss now as it was to predict then. Knowing where to begin, though, has always been painfully easy. RahXephon is not trying to be Neon Genesis ... Evangelion. Whether you found Eva to be a spectacular failure or just plain spectacular, its goals are not Rah's goals, and to call RahXephon either a ripoff or an improvement of Evangelion would be unfair to both anime. RahXephon has its own story to tell and its own messages to convey, and while it may not have taken the world by storm the way Eva did, the strength of its core, beauty of its craftsmanship, and humanity of its characters still set it apart as an excellent work that can stand tall on its own.

Still, their similarities needn't be ignored completely for a discussion to be worthwhile; they do exist and people will inevitably notice them. RahXephon is an introspective giant robot anime about a uniquely qualified pubescent pilot who gets drafted by a shady organization to fight otherworldly monsters to protect a world that's already been shaken by a cataclysmic event that took place during an iconic year, while also struggling to deal with puberty, distant parents, his own sense of self-worth, romantic entanglements, the expectations of adults, and growing up in general. There's no question it would've been made very differently—or not made at all—in a world where Evangelion didn't exist, and RahXephon even pays its more famous forerunner direct, loving homage a few times. My personal favorite is a scene in episode 11 that is a backwards shot-for-shot remake of an iconic (and awkward) scene from Eva episode 5. Except that the context, meaning, and emotions conveyed are all completely different, which says a lot about RahXephon as a piece of art inspired by another piece of art. Evangelion was a very important influence to RahXephon, but their similarities are only skin-deep. True inspiration means borrowing concepts that you admire or find fascinating, and then casting them in a completely new light to create something new that reflects your unique view of the world rather than repeating someone else's, which director Yutaka Izubichi and his crew have done admirably.

Evangelion is also far from the only influence that colors this series. RahXephon draws from many older, perhaps forgotten mecha anime as well, notably Brave Raideen, which informed the design of the titular titan and some of the series' mythology. Outside of anime, the series blends influences from numerous cultures, time periods and media both obvious and obscure, from ancient Mesoamerican civilizations to Japanese folklore to Churchward's mythical continent of Mu to the paintings of Salvador Dali. Thankfully, most of these cultural references have some narrative or thematic connection to the story and never truly cross into "details for the sake of details". The series can be watched and thoroughly enjoyed without having read The Dandelion Girl or understanding the meanings of musical terms like Allegretto and Falsetto, but that extra knowledge is a nice bonus if you're willing to hunt for it. The world of RahXephon is saturated with subtle and not-so-subtle details and eye-catching visual concepts almost to the point of overload, but all the seemingly disparate pieces fit together in the end, at least in spirit, and everything in its world feels like it belongs there.

RahXephon was also blessed with the technical and artistic strengths to convey that world. This was one of Bones' first projects as an independent studio, and also made during the very early days of digital animation. But the results wildly exceed expectations and have stood the test of time very well. The character designs are sharp and distinctive, and their facial expressions are capable of communicating all manner of complex, subtle emotions with great finesse, which is especially important in a series where characters have a tendency to say a few words to convey volumes of meaning. These are further bolstered by excellent cinematography, beautifully rendered backgrounds and brilliant color choices, with particular emphasis on contrasts between red and blue. The animation itself can be limited compared to modern Bones and some of the effects are noticeably dated, but for the most part it knows its limitations and works well within them. The design work on display is more than enough to carry it even at its most restrained, and the staff at Bones knew how to manage their money, meaning the animation peaks at all the right moments. At worst the production work here is still a notch above merely competent (with one or two noticeable but ultimately forgivable dips in quality), and at best it's a visual treat over a decade later.

While the animation has aged quite well, time has not been so kind to the English dub, but it's not for lack of effort. Contrasting the more low-key and soothing Japanese language track, the dub is loud and raw to a fault. On the downside, this means that some characters sound awkward and over-acted, and at times unsure of the emotions they're supposed to be conveying. Some actors take several episodes to grow into their roles, and others never do at all, to say nothing of some of the stiff, overly direct translations they have to read. Still, a few good performances can do a lot to elevate an uneven product, and the standouts of this dub own their roles completely. Chris Patton, who plays the protagonist Ayato, captures the thoughtful and strong-willed but at times emotionally immature teenager remarkably well, and Monica Rial does a positively bang up job capturing both the tough and fragile sides of Haruka. Both actors have cited their roles (and this series) as personal favorites, and the passion behind their performances can be felt. While this isn't enough to recommend the overall very clunky English dub over the far more polished Japanese version, it may still be worth a listen.

But in a show that uses music prominently as a motif, it’s the soundtrack that really holds it all together. The composer, Ichiko Hashimoto, is a jazz pianist who’s never scored an anime series before nor since, and she gave RahXephon a sound unlike that of any other anime. An eclectic blend of rock, jazz, chamber music and several other styles integrate effortlessly and give the series a personality that's classy and dignified, yet also friendly and inviting. It's also an incredibly diverse score that can explode into blaring trumpets and war drums when a battle begins, descend into glorious experimental madness when Ayato enters a dream sequence, and envelop its audience in enigmatic, otherworldly chanting as we delve further into the mysteries of the Mu. The only songs not composed by Hashimoto are the opening theme, "Hemisphere", and "Garden of Everything", which is never used in the show but is nonetheless perhaps RahXephon's most iconic song and perfectly encapsulates what the story is really about. Both pieces are composed by Yoko Kanno and sung by Maaya Sakamoto (the latter is a duet with Steve Conte), and both are completely worthy additions to an already outstanding soundtrack, making it a must-listen for anime music enthusiasts.

If RahXephon were a conventional mech action series, it could be recommended on the strengths of its style and aesthetic alone, but delivering spectacular robot fights isn't its first concern. Like an Evangelion unit, the RahXephon moves quite organically, but unlike an Eva its movements always seem burdened by its own weight. Every motion it makes is slow and deliberate, and consequently from an action choreography standpoint it simply doesn't have the cool factor Evangelion did. That's not to say the fights lack tension or suspense or a sense of purpose, though. The monsters, enormous clay puppets called Dolems, are varied in both their designs and abilities, often genuinely threatening, and the battles against them are filled with unique imagery. It can be quite captivating to see an organic golem split in half while gushing blue blood. During one battle, there is a shot of the RahXephon's hand forcing its way out through a Dolem's face, fingers emerging around its still-screaming mouth, and it’s just as awesome as it sounds. But generally this series doesn't have the pulse-pounding blow-by-blow excitement of a true action series. While Eva is mostly remembered and revered as a heavily introspective character piece, part of the reason for its mass appeal was that it could initially hook audiences on pure, powerful spectacle. RahXephon has no such hook early on, and this can present a challenge to new viewers who don't know what kind of anime to expect.

And indeed, the question of what to expect going into RahXephon is not an easy one to answer. We see the world mostly through Ayato's eyes and learn as he learns, from the ground up. It takes a full three episodes to reveal the very basic premise you'd generally expect to see on the cover of the box, and another two or three to establish a solid dynamic that the rest of its episodes can build off of. From there it becomes somewhat easier to follow, but this is definitely not a series you can multitask while watching. RahXephon's mysteries are many, complex, and very slow to unravel, and if you're not paying careful attention you'll end up missing a lot. This is a mature, adult fantasy that speaks eloquent words in a soft voice, delivering key plot points and casual character interactions with equal importance. Like watching a painter at his craft, whether you can see beauty in each individual stroke or are just waiting for the finished product will come down to your own patience and proclivities.

The "strokes" with which RahXephon paints its picture are its characters, and at the center of its cast is the hero Ayato Kamina. Ayato is a seemingly ordinary teenager who lives in a version of Tokyo that has been displaced from the rest of time and space, and leaves his home to discover that he is destined to "tune the world". Over the course of the series, he slowly discovers the truth about the separation between the blue-blooded Mulians that now occupy the world known as Tokyo Jupiter and the red-blooded human beings they've isolated themselves from, unlocks the secrets of the powerful golem known as the RahXephon, and must find out what his own role is in this war between worlds with powerful figures and close friends and family pulling at him from both sides. But while the power he's been granted may be extraordinary, Ayato himself always feels like a fully realized, thoroughly grounded, and very real person, despite his reality being repeatedly turned on its head. He's not above the influence of others, often getting dragged along one way or another when he's lost and without direction, sometimes escaping one controlling environment only to fall into another one. He also has a dangerous habit of not asking important questions when he's afraid of what he'll find. But he still acts on his own agency, lashing out when he feels wronged, deceived or betrayed and drawing his own conclusions, for better or for worse, from every new discovery he makes.

Still, Ayato is just one in a cast of around twenty characters, and to the series' credit, they all very much take on a life of their own, many of them growing far outside of the archetypes it'd be easy to initially pin them as. Supporting Ayato, in every sense of the word, is Haruka, the woman who pulled him out of his world, known as Tokyo Jupiter, and into hers. It becomes immediately clear that while her intentions toward Ayato are benevolent, she's not being completely honest about her motivations, and her tough, confident exterior belies a very old, very deep emotional wound that she cannot bury no matter how hard she tries. She and Ayato—and the relationship between them—are the clear heart and soul of the story, but they are far from the only great characters worth mentioning. The other cast members have varying levels of depth and complexity, but the series still manages to breathe life and humanity into nearly all of them, ranging from the wonderfully complex characters like Ayato's estranged mother Maya and the outwardly cheerful but distant and secretive Doctor Itsuki, to simple, likable ordinary people like the idealistic but dependable TERRA officer Souichi and the reporter Futagami, a character whose sole purpose in the story seems to be spouting exposition, and yet every moment he spends onscreen is a delight. Together, they lend the series a warm, earthy charm that helps to keep it emotionally accessible even when it gets intellectually overwhelming.

Like any great painting, though, the true beauty of RahXephon lies not in its individual strokes, but in how they come together. This is a story of resonance between worlds and between people, and its true depths only surface when two characters are given the chance to talk and interact, and the bonds between them are forged, tested, broken and reformed. "Words can't change anything," Ayato says. "They can when people talk to each other," his friend Souichi replies. And talk they do. Whether it's casual banter between friends, key exposition to give the audience and characters another piece of the puzzle, or a thoughtful elaboration on the series' themes, nearly every exchange flows with stunning natural ease, and quite a few of them are surprisingly high-minded and poetic, shedding light on some fantastically nuanced relationships. There's Maya, for instance, and her relationship with Ayato, which is caught between her genuine desire to care for him as a son and her obligation to raise the perfect Instrumentalist. The compromise she reaches between the two is understandable and even sympathetic, but bears disastrous results. Rebound, unrequited and possessive love are given their due alongside the real thing because, after all, they're a part of life too, and seeing characters connect or fail to connect is a rich enough experience that it could have been its own reward.

But then there's the conflict between the Mu and the red-blooded humans, which gradually becomes world-ending in scope and scale as the deadline for "tuning the world" approaches. Attempting to balance and reconcile these two storytelling approaches could have resulted in the series becoming dichotomous and unbalanced. But RahXephon utilizes its larger conflicts to give weight, context and justification to the wide range of small personal issues its cast finds themselves contemplating and debating, often using parallel editing to highlight this, most notably during the iconic, incredibly cinematic climax of episode 19. This comes full circle in the finale, where Ayato finds himself empowered to tune the world and create something new, but he would not be able to accomplish this without a vision, and he derives his vision for a new world from the things he has seen and people he has met in the current one. Inspiration. This series may not be as trailblazing as Evangelion, but it is a passionate, elegantly crafted and thoughtfully woven story about all the timeless, unchanging things that make us human.

Ultimately, RahXephon is about something old as dirt, infinitely complex and incredibly simple. RahXephon is about love, in all its shades and hues. Connecting with others can bring pain and hardships, but a world without these bonds is sterile and joyless. The freedom to choose the life you want to live and the person you want to be with, even if that choice leads to suffering, is something everyone needs to live a fulfilling life, and if you find someone you want to be there for, even as the world is coming down around you, then your existence is a meaningful one. It’s an overwhelmingly positive and empowering message that feels completely earned, and that’s something to be celebrated. Simply put, RahXephon is fantastic. It successfully unites a grand, ambitious story, lofty artistry, and a beating human heart, and the end result resonates long after the final curtain has fallen. That’s more than enough to cement it as an enduring great that deserves to be remembered and rediscovered for many years to come.

How ironic that Stan Lee would have to go to Japan to make a good old-fashioned American style superhero show, but in an era where it's more common to see parodies, dark twists and subversions than the genuine article, it's nice to see a callback to the good old days. The heroes are very heroic, the villains are very evil, and we never question for a moment which side is in the right. The robots are awesome, the monsters are creepy, and the action is a blast to watch. Ordinary teenagers have ordinary teenage problems, nosy adults worry about their kids, and life gets a ... hundred times more complicated when you have to balance out superhero work. They just don't make shows like this anymore, which is a shame. I have nothing against complex or innovative storylines, but I hope people never lose their appreciation for simpler pleasures like this.

Heroman was made by Bones, which means it has some of the best animation on the market. The visuals are fluid and detailed, and also incredibly stylish, with lots of bright (but never garish) colors, expressive faces, and some increasingly cool and imaginative battles. It's also nice to see how much effort went into the design work; it's true that a lot of the character designs and outfits fall into basic stereotypes, but they're at least American stereotypes instead of Japanese stereotypes of Americans. Some of the characters do suffer from anime hair, though. Everything else, from the layout of Joey's hometown to the cars, cafes and even the houses are unmistakably American-looking. We probably have Stan Lee to thank for that authenticity, and it's part of the reason a lot of people, myself included, say the show would do well on American television. This is one of the best-looking kid shows I've ever seen.

The music score consists primarily of loud electric rock. It's intense, fun to listen to, vaguely reminiscent of Soul Eater's score and just as effective in setting the mood for all the series' fun action scenes. The show brings out some softer pieces here and there as needed, but the battle music is what you're going to remember.

I just have one language track to judge this time. As always, I have a hard time judging the voice acting in a language I don't speak, but to my non-fluent ears it sounds like a perfectly comic-booky archetypal cast, which is exactly what the show needs. There's not a lot of subtlety, this isn't a very nuanced show, but the characters that are meant to be over-the-top sound deliciously so. They shout with passion, laugh heartily and even carry the show through its tender moments. Heroman's voice, comprised solely of groans and grunts, is uncredited and possibly synthesized, but man does he sound like a big badass robot. Joey is the only male character voiced by a woman, but he's supposed to be a very wide-eyed and boyish character (he even looks androgynous), and Mikaku Komatsu gets this side of him across fine, so I'm okay with this.

As far as teenage superheroes go, Joey Jones is cut from the same cloth as Peter Parker. He's not particularly popular, but he still has good friends he can count on. He's not particularly intelligent but he does have a clever streak. He's at that age between childhood and adulthood, where he has concerns like whether his love is reciprocated but still retains a boyish heart. It's a decades-old character archetype, but if executed well it can still make for a likable lead, and that's just what Joey is. His friends and relatives all fall into the simple and likable category as well, they can all more or less be summed up in two or three sentences, but when push comes to shove you still find yourself rooting for them. All of them, that is, with the exception of Joey's best friend Psy, who is implied to have once been one of "the cool kids" and possibly a bully himself before a leg injury got him removed from the football team. It's not terribly important to the story, but a little extra effort is always welcome in my book. Joey's brash but caring sister Holly, zany mad scientist Professor Denton and mutual crush Lina have their moments to shine as well, creating an all-around lovable core cast.

As per the title, though, the real star of the show is Heroman himself. This series is a no-holds action spectacle, plain and simple, to dwell on anything else for too long would be completely missing the point. The Skrugg are definitely a viable threat, aptly modeled after cockroaches with strength and weapons humans can't match. They just want to take over the world and kill everyone, and all the other villains have very simple comic book-y motivations for what they do. And you know what? I wouldn't have it any other way. It is immensely satisfying to see Heroman beating up the arthropod invaders, discovering more powers he can add to his arsenal, all the while showing off his flashy all-American paint job. Occasional use of stock footage notwithstanding (and the stock footage is actually pretty awesome) the crisply animated fight scenes only get more imaginative as Heroman gains new powers and new enemies.

After a little while Joey even gets some powers of his own, thanks to his gauntlet, and actually, I'd say giving him the chance to fight alongside his giant robot was probably the show's biggest stroke of genius. It adds that touch of human involvement to the fights that we just couldn't get from the silent, stoic Heroman, who only occasionally shows signs of sentience. By giving Joey a more direct involvement in the fights, which only increases as the story progresses, we're given a good look at Joey's personal growth, and that's handled quite well. The best part is, it never gets too dark or violent or complicated for children to watch and enjoy right along with you.

Compelling as it is, Heroman has as many problems as any awkward boy in high school. The show is pretty well-written on a whole, but the pacing isn't always up to scratch. I mentioned earlier that this isn't a character-driven show, and while they're all very likable, their development is nothing we haven't seen before. Make no mistake, the show's character drama works really well when it's used sparingly; it's cheesy and often melodramatic, but that's the point. During the lulls between battles when the characters have to carry entire episodes on their own, though... well, it's still pleasant to watch, but it's definitely not the show playing to its greatest strength. Meanwhile, we only get brief snatches of development from Psy, the character that does seem to have some hidden depths.

The series' low point comes in the middle, when Joey finds himself on the run from a government agency and has to hide out in the woods without making too much of a scene. Yeah, the whole "fugitive evading the authorities" story gets old really quickly. You can always be sure the show has something more waiting just around the corner, though, and when it's all cylinders firing, it's an absolute delight. The series concludes with a grand-scale finale that offers a satisfying resolution while still leaving enough openings for a possible second season. Most importantly, even if the characters aren't complex enough to carry the show all on their own, you still find yourself rooting for them all the way through. That's all I ask of an action show: caring about the characters enough to want to see them make it out alright.

That's the heart of what makes this show work, actually. Action and cool-factor are nice, but if there's no emotional investment, what's the point? That might not sound like much, but it's something I see people forgetting far too often. It's such a simple story that while writing this review, I initially found myself grasping at straws to find something, anything to say about it that isn't already obvious. But then I realized that being able to sum this show up in not so many words isn't a bad thing. It's a typical story we've seen dozens of times before, doubly so if you grew up reading American comic books, but it feels so sincere and passionate that it's hard not to cheer for it all the way through. It doesn't have to try too hard to be groundbreaking, all that matters is whether it makes the audience want to keep watching. Bring on the aliens, the mad scientists, the mutant plants, the rogue machines and scary weapons, the cool powers and wacky inventions! It's a lot of fun, dammit! That's all I have to say about Heroman at the end of the day, and it's all anyone ever should have to say about it. Isn't that enough?

While I believe that a responsible critic should judge each creation on its own individual merits, there are times when the existence of a comparable alternative that surpasses the subject in question on just about every level is evidence enough that it could have been "done better". That holds especially true in this case, where said alternative is widely considered to be essential viewing for anime fans. I mention this because from the military-ruled state to the lower class that's still suffering from the wounds left by war, right down to the noticeably similar art style, Pumpkin Scissors comes out looking an awful lot like ... a poor man's Fullmetal Alchemist. Take Ed and Al out of the equation to focus almost entirely on Roy and his gang, and then switch Roy out for an idealistic novice, and you pretty much have Pumpkin Scissors, complete with a dog as their team mascot. Oh, and replace Armstrong with a stoner (okay, not really) who lives under a bridge. Having said that, if you know my opinion of FMA (it's a high one to say the least) then you'll know that my saying Pumpkin Scissors isn't as good is hardly a condemnation. If you didn't like any iteration of FMA you almost certainly won't like this, but for the 99% of you who are still here there is an actual review ahead.

I really didn't want to have to make fun of Gonzo again, and indeed this show isn't nearly as ugly as Glass Fleet, but that's not saying much. It's not terrible; the use of CG is minimal, the lighting and backgrounds are competent, but the character designs have a tendency to get sloppy and uneven at the drop of a hat, the movements are stiff, fights aren't especially well-choreographed and lacking in dynamic action, and it's a pretty rough package all-around. The only moments the animation really shines are the mind trip sequences where we get a look into Randel's head and how it's been tampered with, which sport excellent color choices, good use of shadows and some minimalistic but surprisingly effective design work, and members of The Invisible Nine are genuinely creepy and threatening. Other than that, this show sits comfortably at the lower end of okay.

The music is a mix of military trumpets, whistles and drumbeats with a few wind and orchestra pieces mixed in. This sounds fitting in theory, but in execution it’s unfortunately a bit on the forgettable side, and I guess that’s all I have to say about it.

I just wish I could call the English dub forgettable, but that would be a generous compliment. Oreldo is pretty good, but Alice is just okay, Randel sounds stoned half the time (I'm not sure if that was intentional), and about a third of the tertiary characters are downright unlistenable. Apparently ADV was undergoing a merger at the time and they ended up with a lot of voice actors who, to put it bluntly, can’t act. A few shows got the short end of the stick, and this is definitely one of them. Awkward accents and ridiculously slurred speech patterns abound. The Japanese soundtrack, while not outstanding, is at least much more consistent, so I'll have to recommend going sub over dub for this one.

Setting aside the (unfavorable) FMA comparisons for a moment, Pumpkin Scissors does have a lot of good to offer, and the first pleasant surprise is its characters. Alice initially comes across as something of a female Naruto: she's brash, straightforward and charges in headfirst with little strategy, complete with an orange outfit. Thankfully, it quickly becomes clear that Alice is not as naïve as she initially appears; she clings to her child-like idealism not because she doesn't understand how the real world works--she's the daughter and probable heir of a high ranking noble house and fully understands that responsibility begins at the top--but because she believes that such idealism is simply what the world needs to make their time of peace really mean something. It's not realistic, but both she and the show are aware of this, and that turns into the show's biggest saving grace; while FMA was much better at moral ambiguities and gray areas, a little idealism really can be a refreshing change of pace every now and again. That said, Alice should be flayed alive for giving her team the name Pumpkin Scissors (she tries to explain what it means to her but utterly fails to make it any less stupid). Her subordinates Martis and especially Oreldo also have hidden depths, and while they're not given as much time as I might've liked they're still far better fleshed-out than many lackey characters in similar positions. It's clear, however, that Randel is supposed to be the real meat of the story. I'll get back to him in a moment.

Even though Pumpkin Scissors is supposed to be about war relief, I think its greatest strength is addressing separation of the social classes, a problem that can become especially apparent during war and its immediate aftermath--after all, nobles have the resources to endure through hard time and the crafty ones can even profit from them--but it's a far cry from exclusive to wartime. Still, the increasing tension during a postwar depression and the lack of work and rations is definitely truth in television, and I think it's a pretty nice touch. The show does a pretty good job of portraying the discontented masses who are tired of being abused and mistrustful of those born into riches. I'll also applaud the show for not making all the nobles look like pompous assholes (though there are certainly a few like that), in some cases they even show genuine guilt for not taking more responsibility for their fellow men. Again, Pumpkin Scissors is a very idealistic show, but it still manages to feel honest about it without feeling like it's trying to strongarm the audience into listening, and while it can get a bit corny and on-the-nose with its messages, you still want to believe in the ideals it's pressing.

Now to talk about the downside, namely: Randel Oland. He's Pumpkin Scissors' newest recruit and the only member of the team who actually saw any action in the war. What's more, he's actually a very gentle and peace-loving soul at heart, but he's been brainwashed to transform into a terrifying human juggernaut who can single handedly bring down a tank, a side of himself he clearly wishes he could leave behind but keeps tapping into either out of necessity or sometimes just a pure uncontrollable urge. This, unfortunately, makes him sound a helluva lot more interesting and well-developed than he actually is. One problem with the show is that it can't really decide how much self-control Randel is supposed to have when he's in his blue lantern state. Most episodes seem to indicate that it turns him into a complete killing machine, but there are multiple occasions where the show breaks this rule, seemingly on a whim, and it's never treated like a feat of willpower or personal fortitude. It just sort of happens whenever the writers feel like he needs to come and save the day, and this really keeps his personal struggle from having the gravity it feels like it should, it just feels forced and makes his character feel needlessly mopey. He's seven hulking feet of missed opportunity.

Perhaps a guilty conscience might've made up for it, but he doesn't seem to have one of those either, or if he does we never see it. We get the impression he's deeply hurt by what he saw during the war, but most of the show's attempts at developing him are focused on his half-baked existential crisis as a human weapon, all else ignored. Now yes, it is charming to see him slowly warming up to his teammates and forming a tighter bond with them, but even his casual interactions are pretty dull, and it doesn't help that the show has a crappy sense of humor. For every one heartwarming moment there are ten that just leave you scratching your head wondering how you're supposed to react, and the show even makes frequent jokes about the other big gun Randel is implied to be carrying... enough said. It just doesn't have FMA's finesse when it comes to balancing different tones, and in half as many episodes it manages to include a few nearly pointless filler episodes with lame plots. The worst part is that the show peaks at episode 17, the climax of a really, really good arc that seemed to be setting Randel up to face what he is and what's hidden in his past, only for him to get over it the very next episode in a resolution so forced it leaves a bad taste for the rest of the show, just when it was about to reach new heights.

I really need to stop reviewing manga/light novel adaptations with ongoing source material, because complaining about read-the-manga endings is getting old, and Pumpkin Scissors has just that. Honestly, though, it's astounding how much in this show goes absolutely nowhere; In addition to Randel's inconclusive character arc there's the implied government conspiracy surrounding the Invisible Nine, Alice's relationship with her enigmatic fiancé Lionel, her implied sixth sense, and a myriad of other loose plot threads hanging around waiting for a second season that, if sales are to be believed, will probably never happen. No, all we're left with is a six-episode arc with enough staring contests that it probably could've been cut down to three, and it certainly wasn't the right place to end the show. To be fair, the arc actually got a pretty heartfelt resolution, but that's like sticking a band-aid on a gunshot wound. Not a lethal wound, mind you, but the damage is done, and what's left feels like it's long since bled out the best of its potential.

But maybe I'm being too harsh. While Pumpkin Scissors certainly isn't anywhere near as refined as Fullmetal Alchemist, it does have heart. It really cares about what it has to say, and tries to say it in a memorable way. This may be an "if you have nothing else to watch" recommendation, but I'm recommending it nonetheless, for better or for worse. The characters are surprisingly easy to care about, it's somehow charming even when it's stumbling around meaninglessly, the setup is a good one, and on the one in a hundred chance it does eventually get a second season I'll be rooting for it all the way through, even if I have to chuckle every time I hear them say the name "Pumpkin Scissors" with a straight face.

Don't let the creepy designs and macabre setup fool you, despite its appearance Claymore is a shonen anime at its core, which means lots of weird powers and grand-scale fight scenes, speeches about honor and friendship, a conga line of weird villains, and a whole lot of swinging swords and screaming. I know that the word "shonen" makes some anime fans cringe on sight, but it is not automatically a bad thing. There are many shone titles that have stood out positively over the years, whether through captivating heroes and villains (Rurouni Kenshin, Yu Yu Hakusho), a polished and distinctive style (Soul Eater) or some ... surprisingly mature themes thrown into the mix (Fullmetal Alchemist). While Claymore doesn't really excel in any of these categories, it is at least competent and often above-average in many of them, placing it a red and purple bloodstained cut above most shows of its ilk.

The name Madhouse usually promises at least above-average production values, and this is no exception. The backgrounds are expansive and nicely detailed, and Yagi's unusual, distinctive character designs are generally well-maintained throughout the many fighting scenes, not to mention some of the monster designs are just plain wicked. The action itself is half-and half. On one hand, this was definitely adapted from a manga, and during some of the less inspired battles you can practically see the seams from the panels being stitched together: speed lines, quick motions that look more like teleporting, all the shortcuts normally associated with shonen fighter series are here. Thankfully, the strong animation budget softens the blow considerably, with a fairly consistent level of detail, and when it's time to show off during a pivotal battle, the choreography and design work can get really impressive. In a nutshell, this show looks a lot like Naruto and Bleach, only a little more grizzled and much better.

Claymore boasts a rich and diverse music score that mixes folksy strings and winds with modern electric noise, but unfortunately it doesn't seem to have any idea what to do with it. The music direction is so incredibly hit-and-miss that I honestly have to wonder what the show's creators were thinking for some of the choices they made. It will start too late and overstay its welcome, rarely playing loudly enough to make a noticeable impression and often completely failing to match the beat of whatever is happening on-screen. The end result is consistently either forgettable or distracting and only occasionally manages to hit the right beat. I half-suspect that they just went to a composer, asked for an appropriate soundtrack, and then put it on shuffle over the show and called it a day; if someone told me that was the case, I might actually believe it because some of the pieces would have been perfect if they weren't playing over the wrong scene. I should clarify, it's not that bad all the time, and sometimes it actually works really well, but it only takes a few slip-ups to sour the experience and there are more than enough to make this shortcoming noticeable.

Voice-wise, this series is a bit atypical for shonen in that it lends itself to low, threatening intonations instead of the overwrought screaming you usually hear. The Japanese track is a lot of fun to listen to in this regard from start to finish. By contrast, the English dub starts off a little on the dull side, but after awhile the voice actors really grow into their roles so that by the end, both tracks are solid listens. I do have one bone to pick with the dub, and that is Todd Haberkorn's portrayal of Raki. Haberkorn is a very good actor, don't get me wrong, but his voice is a little too snide and snarky to play innocence convincingly, resulting in Raki sounding overly whiny at all the wrong moments, whereas Motoki Takagi was able to carry the character more naturally. On the plus side, Brina Palencia turns out a fantastic performance as Priscilla, able to capture all her childlike purity and twist it into something hideous. Priscilla is a more interesting character than Raki, so I'll take it.

Setting aside its shonen trappings for a moment, Claymore is not an entirely brainless story. This series is at its very best when it is portraying the most basic, carnal side of humanity: fear of the unknown. Humans don't know or understand the Claymores that protect them any better than the Yoma that hunt them, and they're understandably afraid to get close enough to find out. The Claymores do nothing to discourage this attitude toward them, they're cold and often intimidating toward their charges, and as we find out more about them it becomes clearer and clearer that even if they tried to be accepted among humans, what they are would make that more or less impossible. Priscilla's origin story (which also covers Clare's backstory) is a definite high point of the show, clearly showing just how dangerous being "too human" can be when you're constantly battling monsters both within and without. Unfortunately, said flashback takes place from episodes five to nine out of twenty-six, and it's generally not a good sign when a series reaches its high point so early on.

Not that the rest of the show is in complete nowhere land, there are still some good bits here and there, but after unloading its guns far too early the show has to keep its audience entertained almost purely on action sequences, so it's a good thing the action is still fun to watch. This is how a shonen action title needs to be done: lots of cool heroes and scary villains with weird and memorable powers, a simple (rather stupid) plot, maybe a little conspiracy thrown in somewhere, and none of that waxing philosophical nonsense. Most of the characters can be boiled down to "how they fight" and "why they fight", but who cares as long as they're still entertaining? It's a little darker and bloodier than its classmates from the school of Jump, which lends it a distinct flavor and a bit more of an edge. The darker and more twisted this show gets, the more wicked the villains and the more intense the battles, the better. Seriously, forget the heroes, forget the ordinary rank-and-file Yoma, the major villains like Ophelia, Riful and of course Priscilla are the real reason to watch this show. That, and all the creative ways the show finds to cut its characters to tiny bits.

The low point of the show is undoubtedly Raki, and not just because of the voice acting. Make no mistake, he could have been a very important character to help Clare rediscover what it means to be human and given her the companionship she needed to let her past go, but for the most part his role borders on that of her pet (she even gets called out on this at one point). As the first human to ever view her as a person rather than a monster I get why he's so important to her, but throughout the series he constantly needs to be protected by Clare while offering very little in return. He tries to learn how to fight, but he's only human and never really gets a chance to be useful, and as far as good company goes his relationship with her is underdeveloped. If they spent more time talking to one another and had more of a natural chemistry things might be different, but most of their conversations are just generic fare along the lines of: "I'll definitely protect you, you're really important to me, blah, blah, blah", which is a shame. He's a tag-along character done wrong.

Even so, the show remains consistently entertaining from start to... well, not quite to finish. Continuing to rub salt on the wounds, Claymore ends with a "read the manga" conclusion, and a pretty poor one at that. The final arc of the TV series concludes a little too easily while ignoring all the hanging plot threads you could've sworn were leading to something much bigger and signing off with a hokey declaration that "the adventure continues" (okay, they don't actually say that). The possibility of a second season covering subsequent events is looking a little slimmer with every passing year, so you'll have to read the manga if you want answers.

For what it is, Claymore offers a slightly atypical, fairly engaging take on the tired Shonen Jump formula. It doesn't really live up to its potential of being a dark and mature fantasy, but it's still fun to watch and as far as shonen goes that's really all that matters. It doesn't have much to offer anyone aside from the usual action fans, but if you want to see badass ladies fighting monsters with swords, give this the time of day and see if it sates your craving.

Moyashimon sports a basic but acceptable animation budget, and for the most part it handles itself just fine. The character designs could almost be called generic, but this is one of those rare cases where color choices make all the difference. The colors are toned down, almost a bit dirty-looking--perfect for an anime set at an agriculture university--but the character designs are still very easy on the eyes. Other than that, the animation is consistently fine, holding together when it needs to be serious and reserving its shortcuts for the sillier moments when they can be used well. Then there are the microbe designs, which ... are kept simple, cute and marketable. It doesn't look great, but there's an earthy charm to it, and that's nice to see.

Rather than the usual bouncy music I normally associate with slice-of-life, Moyashimon's soundtrack is a little more eclectic. It can get a little repetitive, but between the few pieces they have to work with I think it manages to span the show's various tones and scenarios quite well, ranging from folksy-sounding traditional Japanese music to a more modern-sounding triumphant anthem. College is a time for experiencing variety, and I think that's what they were going for. I have no complaints.

When it comes to voice acting, the lack of an English dub means Japanese is your only option. Voice work and delivery are, of course, paramount in any comedy worth its frames, and that goes double if it's in a language you don't speak. Thankfully, the seiyuu cast here can belt out their lines with hilarious conviction. Of particular note are Tomomichi Nishimura, whose take on Dr. Itsuki is always a joy to listen to, and the talented Daisuke Sakaguchi, whose natural snark makes Sawaki's character a lot more fun.

I cited this show back in my Tatami Galaxy review as one of the few anime that addresses college life, and if nothing else it's laudable for that (as a quick aside I'll mention that Moyashimon, Honey & Clover and The Tatami Galaxy were all noitaminA shows, make of that what you will). This series is quieter, humbler and simpler than its younger cousin, but it still gives a well fleshed-out look at college life and the plethora of experiences that come with it. Like The Tatami Galaxy, Moyashimon downplays the academic side of college to focus more on the element of self-discovery, and it makes for a nice breath of fresh air without coming across as escapist fluff.

First and foremost, Moyashimon is a comedy. A few of the jokes in this show are a little too understated to have any punch, but for the most part the humor walks a fine line between down-to-earth near-believability and glorious bombast that makes it a delight. The art style is simple enough that it works well for their visual gags, the setting is distinctive enough to set up some scenarios you've never seen in an anime before, and the characters are fun and genuine enough that they're easy to get behind even and especially when they're being complete buffoons. Dr. Itsuki in particular takes his passion for biological sciences to delightful extremes, and the cartoonish microbes themselves can take simple science lessons and make them a helluva lot more fun.

Speaking of science lessons, the chemistry and biology in this show are well-researched, as are the elements of farming and business, so if you happen to enjoy getting a little trivia out of your entertainment they're a tasty treat on the side. If that doesn't interest you it might be a bit much to sit through, but they're generally kept brief, simple and funny. Even if you don't understand all the science and business talk, it shouldn't make the show as a whole any harder to follow.

If there's one thing that really elevates Moyashimon, though, it's the characters. Dr. Itsuki isn't just a fun guy to watch, he's also a surprisingly insightful mentor and the guidance he gives his students may turn out to be more helpful than they realize. An upperclassman named Mutou is still recovering from a breakup when that relationship had more or less defined her direction in life. Kawahama and Misato, a duo of upperclassmen who initially seem like comic relief buffons only interested in money and sake, end up showing a surprising level of maturity and supporting Sawaki when he needs it most, and Sawaki's best friend Kei goes through an arc I dare not spoil; suffice it to say it's an issue rarely touched upon by anime. If there's one recurring theme throughout Moyashimon, it's that you need to find your own path and determine your own future, and college is the perfect time to discover just what that future might be, and Dr. Itsuki's assistant Haruka Hasegawa stands out as a particularly poignant example of this, though again I won't spoil why.

Sawaki himself is a bit of a missed opportunity, unfortunately. There are hints at the beginning of the series that he used to really love seeing the microbes, and they bring that "forgotten passion" aspect of his character back for a heartwarming season finale while also raising the question of whether he has any worth outside his ability to see microbes, but between episode 2 and episode 11 what you see is mostly him being the straight man to all the weirdness that goes on around him. Does that make him unlikable? No, he's still a perfectly pleasant human being, if a bit weak-willed and easy to string along. I just don't think he should've been the straight man, that role exists primarily to play off of others and Sawaki could've been a much more fascinating character all on his own. There were still some nice little moments here and there, so I can't be too mad about it.

I'll quickly mention that second season of the show does exist, and while I don't consider it to be as good as the first season it is still more of a good thing, same great characters and all, so if you enjoy the first season, I shouldn't have to tell you to give the second a chance. I may end up giving that season its own review eventually, though I can't say when. I do hope that if there's ever a third season it'll set things back on the right track. The source material is still ongoing, so it's definitely possible.

Moyashimon is simple but effective look at college as a time to learn about yourself and find direction in life. It's not as complex or ambitious as The Tatami Galaxy, but its cast lovable and relatable characters more than make up for that. It's always charming and never boring. Give this show a chance and see if it strikes any chemistry with you.

Boy, this sure was made by the creator of Trigun. That was one of the first observations I made while watching this anime, and it held true to the end. Many creators have some recurring styles and motifs shared between their works, and comparing it to such a well-known and well-loved classic has the capacity to be both good and bad. It certainly doesn't help that this was also adapted from a video game; game adaptations in general rarely fare well, and from what I've heard the original game itself was mediocre at best (I haven't played it though, so take that with a grain ... of salt). With such a strange, potentially disastrous production history I honestly didn't know what to expect going into this series. It's still very much its own thing, but its creative background is definitely notable enough to warrant mention. Don't make a drinking game out of the times I say "Trigun" or "video game" in this review, because it will kill you. Just wanted to get that out there.

Madhouse of the early 2000s wasn't as consistently solid a studio as they are now, and Gungrave is definitely a little rough around the edges. Nightow's character designs definitely give the show a distinct flavor, leaning more toward realism than Trigun but still retaining a tendency toward some weird proportions, with scraggly limbs, long faces and broad shoulders. Grave's design in particular looks like the unholy lovechild of Legato Bluesummers and Brilliant Dynamites Neon. It's a rough, harsh-looking series, nary a bishonen to be seen, and I think that's what they were going for. The style takes a little getting used to, and when the budget drops it can be hard to keep those designs appealing, but when the animation hits its stride it looks great. Of particular note is its use of lighting and lens distortions, which add a lot to some already incredibly tense moments. Like Black Lagoon, another famous gunfighting Madhouse series, the action scenes occasionally amount to the characters standing in one place shooting without worrying about getting shot, but thankfully this gets phased out in time for the climactic battles later on. The animation isn't great, but it's good. Let's leave it at that.

This series boasts a strong soundtrack that's largely comprised of vaguely Italian-sounding string and orchestra pieces with a little synth mixed in, generally sticking to the mafia motif while ranging in tone from warm and familial to cold and dangerous. There's some really good music here, but weirdly enough I think Gungrave is at its best when there's no music at all. This series thrives on quiet character moments, and some of its best scenes go by in complete silence. There are some exceptions, but on a whole the music for this series is at its best when it's either gentle and understated, diegetic (from a source that the characters themselves can hear, like a radio) or just not there at all. The soundtrack is still great, though, so you should definitely give it a listen if you ever get the chance.

The cast of this series is 99% populated by gruff old men, which means the Los Angeles pool of voice actors is perfect for the job. All the big boys are here: William Frederick Knight, Michael McConnohie, Beau Billingslea, the list keeps going. The Japanese dub was very good as well, but there's one actor in the dub who steals the show completely, and that is Tony Oliver as Harry. His Japanese seiyuu, Kenji Yamada, plays him as fairly laid-back, in control but unassuming. Tony Oliver, on the other hand, seems to understand the character much better, his voice always carries a twinge of aggression. Harry is a very ambitious character, someone who's always taking the initiative to get ahead, and Oliver captures that ambition with every word he speaks. Kirk Thornton, Steve Blum and a several others play their roles well, and Tom Wyner does a fantastic job as an older version of Harry in the second half of the show. As usual there are some awkward secondary characters here and there, but on a whole it's a laudable dub well worth listening to for Harry alone, though not quite good enough that I'd recommend it to dub haters.

While Trigun was well-known for its creative worldbuilding and grand concepts, the thing that really set it apart from the crowd was its strong beating heart, and the same can be said of Gungrave. Yes, there is technology that can revive the dead and create super-soldiers, not to mention a very well fleshed-out look at mafia operations and the underworld, but the thing that really holds this story together through it all is the concept of loyalty, and what it really means to betray someone. Millenion is held together by a cardinal rule known as the Code of Iron, which declares that all traitors to the organization, regardless of status or standing, receive an equal penalty: death. Such a code is simple in theory but exceedingly complex in practice, and the first half of the series, which follows Brandon and Harry's rise to power, takes full advantage of that ambiguity. Millenion's leader, Big Daddy, carries a lot of understandable guilt and self-doubt after dirtying his hands the way only a mafia boss could over the years, and the Code of Iron that forms the crux of his loyalty to those below him is how he comes to terms with it. The various members of Millenion, as well as several third-party characters, all have their own concept of loyalty, but it never becomes trite or stale the way shonen friendship speeches do.

That's not to say that the show is dour and political all the time, though, it's also very cool. The characters here all have ridiculous, over-the-top, completely badass names: Brandon Heat, Harry MacDowel, Balladbird Lee, Bear Walken, Cannon Vulcan, Laguna Glock, Blood War (no, seriously) and as yet another Trigun comparison there's even a character named Descartes. The mafia exploits are intriguing, the ways they make money and how they're integrated into the community is intricate and closely resembles how a real-life mafia would operate. Aside from the choreography hiccup I mentioned earlier, the battles are intense, imaginative in the different weapons and styles used but still very grounded and often telling us something meaningful about the characters involved without breaking suspension of disbelief... at least in the first half. Even when it gets really talky, Gungrave is never boring. This is a rare balance that keeps the show engaging if you don't want to think about it too hard, but there's still a lot of depth and subtlety to the characters here for those who want something more from their choice of entertainment.

The characterization, though, is definitely the meat of the story, and at the heart of it all are Brandon and Harry. Harry is ambitious to the point of ruthlessness, but his goals aren't without principles. His philosophy is that those with power are free not only to take what they want, but also to give it away, and while he's hardly a paragon of selflessness there's a lot more to his vision than pure egotism. He has a grand plan and believes what he's doing is for the best, which makes him extremely corruptible. Brandon is a much purer individual by contrast, and his goals are much simpler. He's quiet and unassuming (think "video game protagonist") but earnest and genuine. He just wants to live a happy life with his friends and loved ones, and if that means helping Harry climb the ladder then he'll become a mafia sweeper without hesitation, but he's also there to step in if his best friend strays too far off course. But of course, it's never that simple. As Brandon comes to love and respect Millenion's leader, Big Daddy, alongside his continuing relationship with his childhood friend Maria, it becomes clear that staying loyal to one might mean betraying another, and he has to come to terms with this in his own way. Several other side characters bring their own perspectives, but for the sake of brevity I'll not delve too far into them. Suffice it to say that the first half of Gungrave is one of the greatest betrayal stories in all of anime, right up there with Guts and Griffith. Now if only the story had a stronger sense of focus.

Once again following in the footsteps of Trigun, about halfway through Gungrave shifts its tone and focus dramatically and doesn't quite manage to tie up its loose ends. In the first half, a process known as necrolization is introduced that brings back the dead as super-soldiers. Okay, I could go with that, it's both necessary for Brandon to come back as Grave and a good way to fuel Harry's ambitions. In the second half, a new process is introduced that can transform living soldiers into mindless drones called Orgmen, as well as transforming their leaders into sentient monsters known as Superiors, and this is where it gets pretty ridiculous. Aside from a little added perspective to an already-peripheral "have I overstepped the boundaries laid down by god?" subplot, these elements serve next to no purpose and could easily have been written out completely with relative ease. Instead, it turns the show from grounded character drama to over-the-top action spectacle, and the show's video game roots start to rear their head. The Orgmen are video game mooks, and the Superiors are video game bosses, period. These fights are just there to be cool and action-packed, but that was never what Gungrave was really about.

Nightow is a creative man to a fault. He has a lot of grand, wonderful ideas but doesn't always know what to do with them. Maybe with more runtime or tighter writing it could have given meaning to the cacophony, but the world of Gungrave is a cluttered mess. Even in its stronger first half, the seeds of its oncoming problems were present--allusions to an unspecified war, Tomases from Trigun racing in the place of horses and some really outlandish technology make it clear just how little we know about the world of Gungrave, and it stays that way to the very end with disparate elements that really don't feel like they all belong in the same story. None of that, however, was as obnoxious as the inclusion of the Superiors, which took what could have been some of the most emotionally involving confrontations and made them... well, not bad, but they mostly didn't have nearly the impact they should have. It's hit-and-miss. In the last few episodes a rival faction comes pretty much out of nowhere just to make the ending fall into place. Thankfully, that very ending turns out to be the show's saving grace. It brings the story of Brandon and Harry full-circle in a way that's cathartic, completely justified and entirely satisfying.

I'm not sure whether I can truly call Gungrave "great" or not, but there's certainly a lot of greatness in it. The plot goes some weird and unnecessary places, and like Harry himself it becomes something of a victim of its own ambition, but the parts of it that shine through are truly fantastic. The humanity of its cast and the sincerity at its heart--not to mention a damn near perfect ending--are more than enough to blow past its flaws, and I warmly recommend it.

First, let me get the obvious out of the way: the first two words I heard about this series were "torture porn" and it's not far from the truth. I do think there's more to the show than that, it tries to have an engaging plot beyond pure smut and the concept is actually a decent one that somewhat justifies the show's perverse tendencies. Setting aside any moral issues I might have with it, for the purposes of this review it's no different than any other kind of fanservice, especially since it's sort of justified by the show's mythos. That said, if frequent nudity, erotic ... moaning and women being torn asunder in various and sundry ways is a deal-breaker for you, there's no need to read this review any further because Rin: Daughter of Mnemosyne has quite a lot of that going on. You have been warned.

The visuals behind Mnemosyne are hit and miss. On one hand, the backgrounds are nice and detailed and the animation is pretty solid and consistent, but on the other the use of lighting varies wildly in quality and the character designs are a bit generic, sometimes even dipping into ugly. When it's too dark, scenes that should be gripping just come out drab, and when it's too bright they end up looking gaudy. The show occasionally strikes the right balance, but the lack of consistency can be distracting, and the choreography behind the fights are pretty lackluster to boot. It's not completely incompetent, there are some good moments, but most of the show's important action scenes tend to fall flat. Maybe I'm being too harsh, it's perfectly watchable and never looks bad, it just could've used more panache. At the very least, it has a few decent camera angles mixed in.

Maybe it'd be more compelling with better music, but it was not meant to be. Half the time the music doesn't really support the series, it just feels like it was slapped on at the end with barely any thought given. It's a perfectly good soundtrack that could have matched the tone the series was going for in theory, but there was clearly very little effort put into its integration, so the strained music direction is a real shame. Combined with the poorly executed visuals, it makes all the difference between these scenes being edge-of-your-seat thrilling and just "stuff that happens". I will say that the opening and ending are both hilariously bad Engrish songs.

The voice acting in both languages is fine, perfectly serviceable all-around, but neither really tries to go beyond the call of duty. The exception to this is Todd Haberkorn as the villainous Apos, his voice dripping with venomous obsession in a way few voice actors can nail. Stop casting him as harem leads, Funimation, he's capable of much better than that. Also, I suppose Mimi sounds better in the dub, but that might just be my distaste for moe bleeding through, I'll take Jamie Marchi's sassy performances over Rie Kugimiya's distilled cutesiness any day. I digress. For a show as dry and dramatic as this I can't help but think that more nuanced performances would have been fitting, but the scripts and acting in both languages are pretty content to just skate by. On the surface, the whole package just looks dull and uninspired.

In case my lack of enthusiasm wasn't immediately apparent, I'll just come out and say it: I was not impressed by this series in the least. Looking at the concept on paper I can see where its modest popularity comes from, promising a sexy thriller with suspenseful battles, engaging mysteries and a unique mythos. Oh, and lots of fanservice, if that tickles your fancy. In execution, though, the series doesn't deliver. Out of all the possible reactions I was prepared for going into this series, the one thing I did not expect was that I would find it boring, and yet that is just what happened. The poor direction is undeniably a big part of it--for a show that seems to want to stand out, the fights and action sequences are pretty standard, no flair or finesse to keep the audience's interest. Even when the risk takes on a global scale the tension is nonexistent. Mnemosyne is at its best when it's being tongue-in-cheek, so why couldn't it just stick with that?

Still, even with bland execution some shows can leave a positive impression if they put out a decent story. But nope, to call the story here mediocre would be generous. The entire first three episodes could be removed from the story altogether with only minimal rewriting and at virtually no detriment to the overarching story. The plot drags its feet through arc after inconsequential arc that often have little to do with the ridiculous mess that's eventually revealed to be the plot, and at the end of the day it seems to sincerely want the audience to take it seriously on some level. I couldn't help but think that this should have been a feature-length film if anything, maybe that would have given it some much-needed focus. We don't need to be repeatedly reminded that vodka means water in Russian without variation, thank you very much. Apos' final plan is absurd and pointless and half of his means have nothing to do with the end. Several twists are thrown in for no apparent reason except to make the plot more "edgy", and it gets really old really fast, especially when the straightforward direction gives every indication that this story really thinks it's actually going somewhere.

Moreso than its poor plotting, this series falls flat in how it develops--and doesn't develop--its characters. For a centuries-old mystery woman, Rin is simpler and more transparent than she has any right to be. She's not unlikable, she has a respect for humanity and cares about the people who are close for her, but aside from getting angry every now and again she's pretty much static, with no hidden depths aside from a bit of backstory in the finale that doesn't really add anything to her character. Her partner Mimi actually gets more development, and that's not saying much. The side companions they pick up over the course of the series receive much the same treatment. Kouki, for instance, has an interesting backstory that the show conveniently tosses aside for most of his screentime only to pull it back to try to milk it for some last-minute drama. To make matters worse, they're not all that fun to watch. I know this is subjective, but if the show isn't going to make its characters complex and thoughtful the least it could do is make them energized. This show waffles incessantly between silly and serious, never sticking to one long enough to leave any kind of impression.

I've nearly beaten this show to non-death, but I have to come back to the show's fanservice elements, because while I don't think the raunchy material is inherently bad, in execution it drops the show from bland and forgettable to just plain bad. I mentioned that the mythos somewhat justified the presence of fanservice in the show, and it does: the Angels are basically incubi, and while I won't spoil it, a certain pairing becomes part of a ritual that plays a key role in the series' conclusion. It's ridiculous, but with better execution I'd be willing to go with it. Rin using her sex appeal to get close to her targets on missions? That actually makes sense. Battles fought in minimal if any clothing? A bit much, but it happens. A security guard shoving Rin, the unknown and probably dangerous intruder, to the ground and trying to rape her on the spot without subduing her properly? This is getting stupid. Everyone in this show, be they human, Immortal or Angel, is ridiculously horny, to the point that it often gets in the way of their common sense. The series' oversexed nature extends well beyond what's justified by the tone and the mythos, it gets in the way of the story, and it becomes familiar so quickly that it ends up becoming just dull.

I've seen plenty of series stand out positively for the amount of love and care that went into making them, but despite its unusual production history and somewhat interesting ideas Mnemosyne feels shockingly cold and apathetic. It baffles me that the makers of something so novel and daring could care so little for their baby, but that appears to be the case. It has no idea what kind of show it wants to be, the end result tries too hard to be edgy and not hard enough to be entertainingly over-the-top about it. It still has some funny moments and some cool moments, but they're not enough to be called a saving grace. The show had no right to turn out as bland as it did.

Slice of life is generally a tricky genre to get right. When I say slice of life, I don't mean those dime-a-dozen high school comedies the industry has become oversaturated with as of late. Rather, I refer to series that find something meaningful to explore through the small conflicts of commonplace events. All too often, attempts at this genre come off as either excessive and unnatural or dull and listless. It stands to reason, then, that the best shows of this kind are the ones that introduce unfamiliar elements that make these characters' lives distinct from our own, while still staying in touch with the ... little aspects of ordinary life that make people who they are. Bunny Drop is one such work, and it executes this beautifully. It's a small, unambitious story about ordinary people but it carries itself with a certain measure of refined dignity that's rarely seen in anime in general, let alone the slice of life genre. It has genuine insight into parenthood, but it never talks down to its audience and you don't have to be a parent to get behind the story. This is quite honestly one of the most accessible anime I've ever seen.

The staff of Production IG handled this show with the sort of nurturing care rarely seen in a slice of life anime, which usually tend to get the short end of the stick production-wise. Backgrounds are surprisingly detailed, colors are warm and rich, and even when the character models go into super-deformed mode (which happens often) movements are fluid and quality control remains excellent. Of particular note are the opening segments of each episode, which are animated in a soft crayon-esque style reminiscent of a children's storybook. That's to say nothing of the charming character designs. Every character is distinctive in an understated way that isn't too far-removed from reality. Family members really do resemble one another (which is especially great since this is a show about family), but not to the point that they could be called carbon copies. The children are cute without defaulting to an overly moe-fied style as Japanese animation is wont to do. This is a spectacular visual effort that sets the tone for the show perfectly.

The music is mostly comprised of low-key string pieces, and can best be described as charming for its gentle, sincere simplicity. It can get a bit repetitive, a good portion of the soundtrack is comprised of several different instrumentations of the same basic piece, but perhaps due to the series' short length it never wears out its welcome. I've seen longer anime get away with worse, so really I have no complaints.

There's one thing about anime voice acting in Japan that makes it perfectly suited to this kind of show, and that's their willingness to fill their child roles with real children. It does happen in the States occasionally (Aaron Dismuke as Alphonse Elric from Fullmetal Alchemist comes to mind immediately) but it's not nearly as common. Rin, her friend Kouki, her cousin Reina and several minor child characters are all played by age-appropriate voice actors, which makes them sound genuine as only real children can. Ayu Matsuura in particular does a great job as Rin, and I wouldn't be surprised to hear more from her in the years to come as she grows and matures into new roles. The adults sound pretty good too, at least to my ears. The lack of a dub does create a problem for some potential viewers, though, which is unfortunate because otherwise I'm fairly confident I can recommend this series to just about anyone.

Bunny Drop is first and foremost an emotional series. It's a pretty consistently upbeat series but it never goes too far into "flowery sunshine and rainbows" territory. This show works because of how true it is to the small, understated moments that a parent and child really do share every day. These moments never feel unnecessary because Daikichi is as new to Rin and to parenting as we are (unless, y'know, you're already a parent), so we get to discover these things as he does. Both Daikichi and Rin have time to develop in small, believable ways and build a realistic family relationship. Daikichi is always well-meaning, and you never doubt he's suited to raise Rin, but he does run into a lot of problems that he overcomes with believable difficulty. Rin, meanwhile, is a well-mannered girl who is in some ways wise beyond her years, but she still faces common everyday problems for a child her age like wetting the bed, and she confronts these problems as any child would, so even when she acts a bit old for her age you never forget she's six. The two of them complement each other sweetly but never come across as saccharine--no small feat. They're not particularly complex characters, but they're still charming and memorable, and feel like real people rather than archetypes.

Actually, "charming", "memorable" and "real" are good ways to describe the entire cast. From Daikichi's family to Rin's playmates, they all act remarkably true to the people we could really meet at these various stages in our lives. The show uses its surprisingly large cast to its full advantage, with every character acting as a foil to Daikichi and Rin in some way or another. For example, there's Daikichi's mother Sachiko, who's already been through everything Daikichi is going through right now, and his sister Kazumi, who's on the cusp of starting a family of her own. Both of them initially question Daikichi's decision, but after warming up to Rin and reflecting on their own lives we do see them change for the better in little ways. The lessons are simple but important ones, and they come across naturally through everyday interactions rather than being crammed down our throats.

If there's one character in this series who deserves special mention, though, it's Masako, the mother who abandoned Rin with her father. When Daikichi meets her, she's nothing like he expects her to be, and it turns out her reasons for leaving Rin are more complex than pure apathy. She's focused on her own career and not at all suited to being a mother, but despite her efforts to distance herself she can't help but care about Rin in her own way. She doesn't feel that she was ready to be a mother, and maybe she's right, but that doesn't make her a bad person. That the show managed to portray her in such a light is probably its greatest achievement, and the closest the series comes to delving into the dark side of parenthood. Her character arc is so good, in fact, that it casts the show's greatest flaw into sharp relief.

You see, Bunny Drop falls into a bit of a comfort zone, in that it's severely limited in its thematic and emotional spectrum. Not that it doesn't bring anything meaningful to the table, but the picture it paints of parenthood is a little too rosy to encompass the full experience. Daikichi never really messes up, the little mistakes he make and the details that slip through the cracks are quickly forgiven and forgotten, and many of the difficulties he and Rin might have to face are discussed but never actually portrayed, such as the possibility that Rin might be teased for her family circumstances. Am I being too cynical? Perhaps, but it's arcs like Masako's that prove that the show can strive for something more without sacrificing its purity and sincerity; Masako wasn't in the right, exactly, but what she did was still understandable, sympathetic even, and it shed light on some truths about parenthood that are rarely addressed. The show needed more material like that, but aside from that one arc and a pretty powerful opening episode (the scene where Daikichi takes Rin home is actually a great moment), Bunny Drop systematically dodged every opportunity to become something more. I mentioned Daikichi's mother earlier, and on a whole I didn't dislike her character, but one thing that bothered me was that even after she warmed up to Rin she never apologized for treating her so coldly early on. That's something the show would have been better for confronting rather than tiptoeing around it the way it did, and this series does quite a lot of tiptoeing in its short run.

What we're left with is a rather baffling creation. Bunny Drop is primarily a feel-good anime, but I can't write it off as meaningless fluff. It does have some genuine depth and weight to it, and it's true to life in its portrayal of the joys of family, but a limited scope does take its toll on the series. The final episode is just like every other episode: nothing particularly powerful, conclusive or poignant, life just goes on. Perhaps that's for the best, as I've had the ending to the source manga spoiled for me and it does not sound like a good direction to take the story, but even if the inconclusive ending we got was preferable that certainly doesn't make it good. Not that it's bad, mind you, it's certainly better than seeing it try for something conclusive only to fall flat on its face. Still, the series as a whole never really strives for greatness, and that's too bad. To be fair, maybe too much weightiness would have damaged the series' charming tone, so I can't fault it too much. Some anime just aren't meant to be great, and for what it is Bunny Drop is still undeniably good.

Bunny Drop is a gentle, extremely lovable look at parenting and family. It's not a grand or complex or particularly thought-provoking story, nor is it the peak of what slice of life anime can achieve, but it is sincere from start to finish, with hardly single beat that rings false in the entire show. Lack of a dub notwithstanding I think this is something even non-anime fans can enjoy. I recommend it wholeheartedly. Watch it, enjoy it, maybe you'll get more out of it than I did.

Bad boy meets lonely girl rom-coms are nothing new--they occasionally make for good comfort food, but having been done to death the way they have it's rare to find a series that's willing to look at its characters honestly rather than just putting an attractive loner on display to get the fawning fangirls a-squealin'. Thankfully, My Little Monster not only averts many of the stale stereotypes associated with its tired premise, it manages to make its leads some of the most believably lonely and isolated characters I've ever seen in a good long time. Love them or hate them, but we've all known kids like ... Shizuku and Haru. Some of us probably were those kids. Better still, they complement one another remarkably well, each filling in the other's deficiencies in surprisingly clever ways. This little gem of a series really does go to surprising lengths to set itself apart.

If there's one word to describe the visuals of this series, it's colorful. The backgrounds and character designs are bright and lively, and yet they never stray so far from reality that it becomes a barrier against seeing these characters as real people. The animation itself isn't particularly high-end, presumably because it's adapted from a relatively little-known source manga, but it's good enough to get the job done. On a whole the show has a charming, playful aesthetic that's still earthy enough that it doesn't detract from the show's dramatic moments.

The music is one of this show's high points. It can dive into over-the-top territory with rowdy and energized blaring trumpets, only to turn around and perfectly accent a sentimental, contemplative moment with soft strings, hitting just the right level of sensitivity without ever coming across as corny. It's a tough task to pull off, made no less difficult by the dichotomous nature of the content. Suffice it to say that there's not a second in this show that doesn't deliver musically. On a side note, am I the only one who got a Peanuts vibe from a few of the show's quirkier pieces, because I swear the resemblance is uncanny.

Bad news for the dub lovers out there, this show is currently unlicensed, but I'm pleased to say that the Japanese track will fill your needs just fine. I have to give the voice actors credit for managing to bounce between over-the-top silliness and grounded drama without a hitch, often managing to carry their characters with surprising subtlety. I have a hard time critiquing a language I don't speak, but I still find Tatsuhisa Suzuki as Haru to be a pretty impressive stand-out performance. From his aggressive side to his silly blunt honesty to his thoughtful, serious side, Suzuki manages to tie them all together into one memorable main character and make it sound like the most natural thing in the world.

Speaking of Haru, he's definitely not your typical male rom-com lead. Rather than the brooding, stone-faced rocks we're used to, he actively fawns over Shizuku to the point of obsession. Naturally, this makes him an enormous pain-in-the-ass to Shizuku, who's used to being left alone and doesn't know how to cope with the attention. Actually, Shizuku herself is much nearer the stereotypical male lead I just described, but she still carries just a hint of suppressed femininity. She's much more grounded in conventional sensibilities than Haru, but just as unsure of how to act in social situations. She keeps her head down and is more interested in grades than guys (or so she tells herself), and it irritates her to no end that Haru, who seems like a complete buffoon, tops her test scores effortlessly. Haru, by contrast, wants to make friends with all his heart, but his brash nature scares people away, and those who do choose to hang around him tend to have ulterior motives, furthering his general mistrust for those around him. He generally gets into fights for the right reasons, but that's not how the people around him see it. Both characters are plagued by loneliness, but for completely different reasons.

Not that this show is all sentimental and serious all the time. Far from it, most of the show is actually really lighthearted and silly, built around Haru's antics getting on Shizuku's nerves, their friend Natsume overreacting and panicking when things get out-of-hand, etc. Thanks to the show's charming direction it's almost never too dark or uncomfortable (notice I said almost, but we'll get to that later). The style of humor, like many other things about this show, is refreshingly grounded, like the kind of silliness that happens between real friends bouncing off of each other naturally, while still injecting a little extra silliness as only anime can. Much like Princess Jellyfish, a lot of effort was put into making this show warm and welcoming, and even the secondary characters have some genuine effort put into them, particularly their new friend Natsume and Haru's old friend Kenji, both of whom start out as borderline stereotypes but grow into complex, flawed yet strong characters in their own rights over the course of the story.

If there's one problem with creating truly believably flawed characters, it's that it becomes very hard to give such characters proper catharsis and making such an ending feel deserved. Haru in particular is a daunting character to work with, constantly straddling the line between a misguided but good-natured boy... and a borderline psycho-path. In the first episode he actually threatened to rape Shizuku, but it was so thoroughly tongue-in-cheek and he said it with such barefaced innocence that I couldn't help but wonder if he even knew how to insert Tab A into Slot B. Later that same episode he accidentally hurt Shizuku in a moment of passion while trying to come to her rescue, but she gave him a firm scolding for it and it seemed like he'd learned his lesson. And yet as the story progresses and we dig deeper into his pit of problems, he becomes progressively harder to sympathize with because by the end it's unclear whether he's made any progress from who he was at the start of the series.

I have a no-spoilers policy, and I think it's worked pretty well for me up to this point, but for this review it's hard to explain just how badly the show messes up his character arc without giving away a detail that comes up later in the story. Let's just say that there's one moment, you'll know it when you see it, where Haru comes dangerously close to crossing a moral event horizon. It was creepy and disturbing (heck, I'd actually related to his character up to that point), and then they never bring it up again. Once again, we're plagued with the problem of a series that's adapted from ongoing source material. Maybe they address it later on in the manga, maybe they don't, but either way it wasn't addressed in the show and that's what I'm reviewing. Shizuku's character arc is somewhat more refined in execution, but still a little too open-ended for comfort, especially in the context of her relationship with Haru, which constantly waffles about in typical will they or won't they fashion. By the end Natsume felt more like the heart of the story than either of them, she had a much stronger grasp on what's important in life. The conclusion was inconclusive and open-ended, saved only by the show's strong direction, which somehow managed to remain consistently charming from start to finish.

One of the most frustrating things a story can do is to reach for greatness and then stop halfway, and that's exactly what My Little Monster does. After putting so much effort into building up a realistically screwed up character, the show falls into the "crap, I'm an adaptation" pitfall and stops before it can help him out of the pit he's in. Still, its strong characterization cannot be ignored, and coupled with its strong atmosphere I think the show has enough going for it to merit a watch and hope for a second season.

Immediately getting on my good side, Higashimura's distinctive character designs work wonders for this series where other artists might not have even given it a second thought. The residents of the Amamizukan don't look like your typical anime girls, they're not designed to be beautiful or attractive and this helps to make their awkwardness all the more believable, but they're not repulsive either. There's still enough charm to them that they can be quite cute at times, and when Kuranosuke gives them all makeovers they take on a much more conventionally appealing aesthetic while still remaining completely recognizable. Brain's Base doesn't slack in the animation ... department, either; movements are mostly pretty fluid, albeit with some occasional hiccups, and show's overall art design is welcoming. The color scheme for this show in particular is incredibly warm, bright and inviting, with plenty of flourish to keep it visually engaging. On a whole, this is a shining example of what the studio can achieve both technically and artistically, brimming with panache and enthusiasm. It looks great.

The music exists, I guess. I think they were going for a big city feel, like a tribute to some of those rom-com flicks set in New York (why is it always New York?) and it pulls this off competently, but never really goes above and beyond. There's the playfully seductive piano, a little jazz, what sounds to be the clarinet accenting its more low-key moments, but it's hardly exceptional and even in execution there are some moments where it could have been handled better. There's one scene in which Kuranosuke is struggling to come to terms with the possibility that he's fallen for Tsukimi, while Tsukimi is confronting her own insecurities. In between all of this, the Sisterhood realizes that Kuranosuke's boobs are fake but assume he's just a flat-chested woman. This is an emotionally complex, tonally diverse scene, and it would have worked a lot better if the music dipped and swelled to match these different moments instead of just running a gentle contemplative piece over the entire thing. It's a passable soundtrack but certainly nothing to write home about. The opening and ending theme, however, are both excellent and neither is worth skipping over.

The voice acting for the Japanese track is top-notch across the board, able to handle both the show's comedic and dramatic sides with finesse, and I guess that's all that needs to be said about it. From what I've heard, the general reaction to the dub for this series has been overwhelmingly positive, but I could see it potentially making some viewers uncomfortable. This has nothing to do with the acting, which is generally pretty solid. Heck, Josh Grelle as Kuranosuke is a downright highlight for being able to bounce perfectly between the character's feminine and masculine sides, and talents like Maxey Whitehead, Monica Rial, Leah Clark and Ian Sinclair really do pour all their hearts into their respective roles. The problem I find with the dub--and let me preface this by saying that many of you probably won't mind at all--is in the script, which is peppered with dated colloquialisms and attempts to sound "trendy" that ultimately just comes off as immature more than anything. I realize that's part of the joke and I have nothing against liberal, interpretive dubs that focus on preserving the intent of the original dialog rather than the precise content, it's just piled on a little thick for my taste and I could see plenty of other viewers--not just the sub purists--having the same reaction. Give the dub a try, and if you're fine with the first episode it probably won't bother you from there. It bothered me and I still really enjoyed the dub, so maybe I'm just nitpicking.

This show does have some dramatic moments and honest themes to convey, but even then it's often tongue-in-cheek so let's start by looking at the humor. The comedic moments in this show can be situational, slapstick, satirical, referential or some combination of these things, and I'm happy to say it's really funny... about two-thirds of the time. What happened to the other third? Well, maybe they were trying to create a warm sense of familiarity, but some of the jokes here get recycled too often and emphasized too much for comfort. The first time Kuranosuke accidentally refers to himself as a boy and Tsukimi goes through her "oh boy" cover-up singing routine, it's kinda funny, but this keeps happening with little variation and quickly wears out its welcome. The girls' "defense mechanism" of turning to stone in uncomfortable public places and Tsukimi's tendency to jump to the most pessimistic conclusion about everything also get pretty repetitive.

Still, even if a few of its jokes are overused, don't let that discourage you because this show is still pretty darn funny. The girls have a wide variety of wacky quirks and unusual interests and the show isn't afraid to have a little fun at their expense, but unlike some other comedies (I'm looking at you, Big Bang Theory) the show doesn't look down on them for their niche interests and they're still likable and easy to sympathize with. Many of us know what it's like to have an interest few people share--heck, that's kinda what being an anime fan in the West is like. Kuranosuke and his circle add even more comedic juices to the mix while avoiding some easy cliches. There are almost no "it's funny because he's a transvestite" moments, which would have been laziest rout to take; instead, the show takes full advantage of all the social barriers and potential misunderstandings that could occur between a male crossdresser and a house full of female otaku, and they all play off each other really well. Kuranosuke's family, friends and acquaintances are all interesting and memorable in their own ways. Ultimately, the jokes in this show work because even though the characters all have their quirks, they're not solely defined by them, allowing the show's humor to flow more naturally. This show loves its characters, and there need to be more comedies like that.

No matter how silly it gets, though, this is a story of strange and troubled people and it never fails to get that across. The show doesn't hesitate to criticize Tsukimi and her friends on some of their anti-social habits, but at the same time it never condemns them from being who they are or loving what they do. As individuals, I have to admit their personalities can be a little sparse. Mayaya is spastic and sees the world as an epic battlefield, Banba is deadpan and has a silly afro, Jiji is shy and likes old men, and Chieko is commanding with a maternal touch, and at times it seems like there's not much to them beyond that. Still, there are moments in the series that make it clear that's not the case, when they step forward to help one another through dire straits. They all enjoy their lives, far more than the well-to-do, "respectable" members of society, and when push comes to shove they're looking out for each other. It's little moments like this that really makes these characters likable, I just wish there were more of them. Tsukimi herself is the centerpiece of this group, and the youngest among them--she's fully integrated into their way of life but perhaps hasn't quite forgotten the dreams they all once had, she's grounded enough to realize they probably won't come true but innocent enough to still hope for it.

Most of the show's depth, though, comes from Kuranosuke's side. At the center is Kuranosuke's lack of a sense of belonging, which stems both from being an illegitimate child and from his fascination with women's clothing, which he learned from his mother. Refreshingly, he's fully come to terms with his gender identity: he's a straight man who happens to like dressing as a woman, but the women he's been with up to this point to are from his father's world, the world of the rich and spoiled. Still, his family isn't demonized either. His father and half-brother Shuu both continue to suffer from the affair in their own ways, and they really do care about Kuranosuke. And then there's his uncle, the incredibly unpopular prime minister of Japan, who's more accepting than anyone of Kuranosuke's habit, presumably because he knows the stress of the political world and would rather just enjoy life without worrying what people think of him. This is played entirely for laughs, but that's the thing about this show: almost everything is at least partially played for laughs and it still manages to get all these points across. I'm not even sure whether Kuranosuke's uncle was intended as a satirical statement or just thrown in there to be silly, but the result is equal parts absurd and surprisingly poignant (at least, as a statement; the character himself is just a loon).

So what happens when these two worlds meet? Where to begin? Kuranosuke starts off treating these girls both as objects of curiosity and as his personal projects; he's fascinated by how different they are, but can't quite wrap his mind around the radically different values they carry or that dolls and jellyfish could be as important to them as fashion is to him. The sisterhood is initially wary of the stylish stranger, and it takes a believably long time for this one-way fascination to develop into mutual respect. Shuu goes through his own arc on the side, and the show does a remarkably good job of balancing all the different sides it presents. If there's one place the drama falls flat, it's the romance. Tsukimi and Shuu become mutually attracted on sight and hardly interact at all outside of a few awkward moments to perpetuate the mutual misunderstandings between them. It's intended to convey both characters' innocence, but there's not enough substance to make it believable. Kuranosuke's attraction to Tsukimi is handled a little better, it'd have to be since they actually get to know each other, but even then it mostly just comes down to him being struck by how "cute" she is. There are probably deeper reasons for him being drawn to her, they're just never shown to us and that's a real shame.

The weakness in the series' romantic relationships stems from a much greater problem. It's a problem that's very common to anime adapted from ongoing source material, I've brought it up in a previous review and I'll most definitely have to bring it up again in future reviews: this series was adapted from a much longer, still-ongoing manga, and the adaptation doesn't feel complete. At the end of the show, the writers decide to slap on an ending that ties up the basic conflict that kept the plot moving along but offers little resolution to the actual character arcs, which are infinitely more important. Given another episode or two, I'm certain the writers could have brought the story to a more satisfying conclusion, or at the very least they could have left the plot open to a second season instead of slamming the door shut the way they did. What we're left with is a bunch of thematic questions and only a handful of answers, so it's a good thing the questions are as good as they are.

With any luck, a second season will eventually take this series to new heights, and given its acclaim and popularity I suspect the manga will find its way to the West in the near future, but as a stand-alone anime Princess Jellyfish is simply too short. Still, that doesn't take away all the good this anime has to it, even on its own. Here we have a series that speaks to the nerds and otaku of the world without ever making itself inaccessible to wider audiences. It's lovable, funny, clever and insightful and I heartily recommend giving it a try.