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War in the Pocket is a stellar example of how revolutionizing a time-tested mecha franchise can bring about positive results. Preferring to avoid genre tropes such as angsty teenage pilots and testosterone-fueled robot brawls, this six-episode OVA chronicles a mature tale akin to celebrated war dramas. It’s the first Gundam series not directed by the legendary Yoshiyuki Tomino, but by no means does that make it inferior. In fact, War in the Pocket is easily the best entry in the saga until today.

While most Gundam stories revolve around a brash teenage pilot, War in the Pocket opts for something completely different by having an eleven-year-old—a ... civilian—as its lead character. At first, Al hardly seems to be a good choice for a Gundam protagonist. Here we have a schoolboy who loves playing war games with his buddies and nothing else. Lacking the combat prowess and flair of the franchise's previous heroes, Al appears to be a dismissible individual in the beginning. With conflicts between the Federation and the Zeon occurring everywhere and Al not fighting in even a single battle, the story seems to be doomed to an uninteresting direction.

But when Zeon forces raid his homeland on a secret mission, Al’s daring personality begins to shine as he observes the skirmishes unfazed. Instead of highlighting the mecha battles, the story remains focused on Al as he navigates through the wreckages of his city and observes the bloody corpses strewn across the streets. Because Al is still an innocent child, however, he does not realize the severity of the situation, and so proceeds to investigate the aftermath of the invasion while skirting dangerously close to the conflict. Ironically, by having a child like Al as a narrator, we are able to survey the destruction even better than through the perspective of a soldier directly involved in the war.

War in the Pocket dives into its action quickly, but it’s not until Al’s fated meeting with Bernie that the ball starts rolling. After Al encounters the downed Zeon pilot, a fleeting moment of tension occurs before his bravery once again comes into play. Ignoring the gun pointed at him, Al surprises Bernie with a declaration to join his squad. This scene seems comically exaggerated at first, but it makes sense when you realize the lengths Al would go to partake in the war. From Al’s juvenile outlook, Bernie is not an enemy, but an opportunity to lead him to a new path.

Bernie is a likable character and most likely the fan favorite. Although a member of the elite Zeon team that invaded Al’s homeland, his inexperience and tendency to panic clearly identifies him as a rookie. Think of him as a foil to Al. Since everyone else in his squad are gruff, battle-seasoned men, he is merely viewed as a tag-along brat who simply wants recognition. Bernie’s relationship with his comrades only worsens after allowing Al to become an informant for their squad, which is rather humorous considering that Al is the son of a late Federation official.

Not everything is bad for our unlucky Zeon pilot, however, as Bernie finds unforeseen love in the form of Christie, a Federation soldier and Al’s longtime neighbor. Making this situation even more fascinating is that neither are aware of the other’s allegiance, introducing a twist to the usual “star-crossed lovers” scenario. United by love rather than ideology, Bernie and Christie share moments that serve as respites in the middle of all the violence. If not for their military expertise, Bernie and Christie could pass as a regular teenage couple. Despite taking a backseat in the second half for more pressing matters, the romance in War in the Pocket is genuinely heartfelt. The blossoming relationship between the two echoes War in the Pocket’s strongest anti-war message, where politics and beliefs are what mainly separate us as human beings.

Ultimately, War in the Pocket is a story about Al and Bernie as they improve themselves by learning from each other. As the Zeon team's secret mission reaches its climax, Al realizes that war is nothing alike to the games he plays with his friends. His decision to join Bernie and his crew as an informant allows him to comprehend the bloodshed and aftermath of the war. Likewise, Bernie attempts to become more confident and serious in his duties by following the example of the fearless Al. Even Bernie’s squadmates, who initially dismissed him and Al as a couple of nuisances, eventually acknowledge their bravery. In just six episodes, Al and Bernie are meticulously fleshed out and become better individuals.

It should be fairly obvious at this point that War in the Pocket prides in the growth of its cast more than anything else. Therefore, mecha fans might be displeased to learn that the show packs fewer action sequences compared to other entries in the franchise. Although War in the Pocket is not completely devoid of giant robot battles, most of them occur in the final two episodes during the climax of the story. Even so, these battles are beautifully animated and are no less fun to watch than that in other Gundam titles. But since War in the Pocket is narrated from Al’s viewpoint, these battles seem like random acts of violence instead of clashes of ideals. However, this works in the show’s favor since it reinforces the anti-war themes that it tries to convey.

Even War in the Pocket’s dazzling visuals plays into its narrative. The watercolor backgrounds and the bright, somewhat grungy color scheme give the show an innocent feel, almost as if everything we see is based on Al’s perspective. In contrast, the bloody corpses and destruction of the mobile suits are rendered more realistically. Although the show was produced in 1989, it’s hard to disagree that War in the Pocket is one of the best-looking Gundam titles to date.

War is hell, and it’s a message that War in the Pocket repeatedly declares throughout its six-episode run. Marrying mecha elements with a profound humanistic story, this fantastic addition to the Gundam saga is sure to please both fans and newcomers of the genre. More than two decades have passed since its inception, but it remains the strongest title in the franchise.

Fantasy anime have long been characterized by an abundance of wicked sorcerers and cute cat girls, but Kemono no Souja Erin features none of these tropes, instead drawing on elements from classic fairy tales. Its innocuous artstyle, which mimics the illustrations of Aesop’s picture books, exhibits an aura foreign to most contemporary anime fans. Coupled with its unremarkable first episode, the show is easy to dismiss as a childish folktale not worth the trouble.

This is a gross misconception. What begins as an everyday tale about a naive young girl and her mother gradually evolves into a profound saga of morality, politics, and self-discovery.

For ... all its deceivingly harmless visuals, Kemono no Souja Erin hides one of the most well-presented and mature stories. People die, political intrigues take place, and an innocent girl is thrust into a harsh world beyond her understanding. These are only superficial elements, however, since what makes the show truly mature is its ability to explore trivial matters in a serious and realistic way. Perhaps Erin’s curiosity about her mother's career as a “touda” breeder might not pique everyone’s interest, but I was every bit as engrossed as our heroine in learning the process of raising these strange lizard creatures. Even when most of the show revolves around Erin learning seemingly mundane things like taking care of beehives or studying medicine, I never once grew tired of watching the show.

Why is that? Probably because of the rich dialogue prevalent throughout its episodes.

The nice soundtrack and pleasant visuals did wonders in enriching the story, but most of the credit goes to the compelling dialogue. The show does not waste time meandering with pointless conversations; every time someone talks, I learn more about their character. Erin’s inquiries are particularly interesting; not even the most insignificant unknown escapes her notice. Whether it’s about a strange plant or bizarre creature, Erin never tires of bringing up new topics to discuss with her mentor figures. The beauty of its conversations is primarily what gives Kemono no Souja Erin a unique sense of maturity unlike any other in the medium.

Of course, none of this would even matter if it weren’t for our impressive heroine.

To put it simply, Erin is a model female protagonist. She’s smart, talented, and dedicated—an impeccable feminist icon. She might be naive and rebellious at first, but after some timeskips, she grows into one of the most independent female leads I’ve ever seen. Erin is forcibly thrown from her home and is constantly on a journey to survive, yet the thought of losing hope never crosses her mind. What Erin lacks in strength and ability, she makes up for with quick wit and charisma. The best example for this is her fateful encounter with Lilan, a “beast lord” kept captive. Lilan has long been declared untamable, but by recalling some self-taught knowledge and the breeding skills imparted by her mother, Erin is able to soothe the feral creature. By performing this outstanding feat, Erin garners the trust of her classmates and teachers who once resented her, as well as Lilan herself. It’s a powerful moment that proves Erin’s sharp thinking and inspirational nature. Among all the female anime leads I know, Erin is second to none in terms of character development.

Speaking of Lilan, I have never seen a nonhuman character with half the depth of this majestic beast. Lilan can only communicate using bestial growls, but the affectionate moments she shares with Erin speak more than a thousand words. Whether taking Erin for a fanciful flight or terrifying those around her, Lilan can never be dismissed as a mere beast playing the role of Erin’s pet. She’s much more than that, and I daresay she has the strongest characterization among the cast—besides Erin herself. Although Lilan is aggressive towards humans, it’s hard not to sympathize with her when she displays her softer side around Erin. They become inseparable as the story unfolds, and by the end of the series, their unwavering bond is like that of a mother who finally reconciles with her long-lost daughter. Seldom does the medium present such a touching human-nonhuman relationship.

I have split opinions on the rest of the cast. John is a lovable father figure to Erin and the time they spend together is genuinely heartfelt. On the other hand, Ial-lu has the development of a pebble, and I find it difficult to point out anything I like about him. Princess Seimiya can sometimes get carried away with her extreme naivety, but such is expected from a sheltered lass. Duke Damiya and his snarky attitude is amusing, though forgettable. The sons of the grand duke, Shunan and Nugan, maintain an intriguing rivalry that later develops into a fascinating plot point.

As for Mokku and Nukku, they are undeniably the most irritating comic relief characters in anime. I’ll just leave it at that.

Occasionally, Kemono no Souja Erin stumbles in tying up loose ends. Who exactly are the Mist People? What’s the story behind the two nations? How exactly does ‘alimentary water’ tame the beast lords? These might sound like petty nitpicks, but I couldn’t help but feel dissatisfied without these answers. For a show with such phenomenal world-building, it’s only natural that nothing should be left unexplored.

Kemono no Souja Erin also suffers from pacing issues during its middle segment. For a series spanning 50 episodes, it’s understandable that recaps are necessary to keep the audience informed. However, the amount of flashbacks later is utterly ridiculous. Well-timed flashbacks can contribute to the story, but when the same scene is repeated eight times in the span of a few episodes, it’s simply just padding. The show’s middling budget is guilty of causing this, but alternate solutions could have been implemented instead.

Nevertheless, these faults become a passing memory once Kemono no Souja Erin reaches its heart-pounding climax. The story departs from its slice of life identity and turns into a high stakes political game before finally bursting into war. Tensions escalate, soldiers clash, and Erin is once again flung into a devastating scenario. However, since our heroine is no longer a timid young girl, the situation plays out very differently. Now wise, experienced, and backed by the mighty Lilan, Erin can steer the tides of conflict and take matters in her own hands. The grand finale is nothing short of breathtaking, and the only thing that keeps it from perfection is the unsatisfying resolution to the entire story.

Delivering an earnest coming-of-age tale under the guise of a children’s show, Kemono no Souja Erin is a fantasy epic that is sure to impress with its remarkable heroine, rich dialogue, and powerful themes. Although it suffers from an uneven cast and excessive flashbacks, the show’s beautifully written story ranks among the very best. Erin remains the finest heroine in the medium, and I’m willing to wait however long it takes to see if someone can steal her glory.

Imagine having to succeed the family food business without the motivation to cook anything. What would you do in this situation? For the mischievous Agetarou Katsumata, the answer is clear: become a professional DJ, and show the world how mixing electronic music can make you a better chef!

Anime has essentially covered every music genre—rock, pop, and even hip-hop—but electronic music is a first for the medium. As its likely pioneer for anime, Tonkatsu DJ Agetarou does well in presenting the life of a rising DJ star through an expert lens. While Agetarou fights his way to the top, we see the ambition, creativity, and ... technical knowledge needed to succeed in the professional world of DJ’ing. Becoming a DJ comes with the spectacular club life, dancing girls, and addictive fame, but none of that will last if Agetarou refuses to work and learn. It’s not easy reaching stardom when nervous breakdowns and vicious adversaries hinder your goal, but even with all the obstacles getting in Agetarou’s way, the bright young lad seldom fails to think of a Plan B. His street smarts and social skills make him one of the most entertaining leads in recent memory.

For its main appeal, Tonkatsu DJ Agetarou splits its focus between our protagonist’s night life and his daily errands as the successor of his family’s tonkatsu shop. With his obnoxious father egging him 24/7 to learn the art of tonkatsu preparation, Agetarou must find a way to ease the burden of his responsibilities. And so he does—by becoming a professional DJ! Although its synopsis illustrates the show as the biography of a rising electronic music artist, the gist of the story is an analysis on the similarities between disk jockeying and preparing tonkatsu. The sound of meat searing in the fryer; the tapping of the spatula; and the rhythm of the knives: these kitchen procedures are skills that are comparable to the art of disc-scratching and record-mixing. Whereas Agetarou rejects the idea of becoming a chef at first, his realization that his talents in the kitchen and dance floor intertwined with each other leads him into a journey to master both disciplines. With an equal perspective on both sides of Agetarou’s dynamic life, Tonkatsu DJ Agetarou feels like a refreshing mix of comedy, music, and a little bit of shounen.

Agetarou and his dual life is certainly fascinating, but Tonkatsu DJ Agetarou wouldn’t have half of its charm without its great side characters. Agetarou’s eccentric family are the first supporting cast members to hit the screen—and boy are they a riot! We have our hero’s dad who can’t give him a break and his little sister who fears for his future love life. During times of trouble, Agetarou consults his neighborhood friends—a gang of unruly youngsters—for some farfetched advice. By far the most memorable side character though is the peculiar Iori Oiri, known better by his stage name “DJ Oily.” Other than Agetarou himself, DJ Oily is the most important character of the show. Not only is he responsible for the boy’s character development, but he is also the wittiest mentor figure you’ll ever meet. It’s hard not to chuckle when the experienced DJ teaches Agetarou his tricks of the trade that are useless, irrelevant, or even downright illegal.

The incredibly catchy soundtrack is another main draw of Tonkatsu DJ Agetarou. From the smooth beats of “Cold Chillin’” to the calming rhythms of “Rainy Lenny,” the music collection is nothing short of impressive. I often find myself bobbing my head whenever Agetarou mixes one of his tracks. The type of electronic music in this show is unlike that by contemporary DJ’s such as Tiesto or Avicii; rather, the tracks resemble the old-school grooves of Fatboy Slim and Daft Punk. Whether you’re an electronic music buff or a casual listener, you’ll likely surf for the name of these tracks online after each episode. Be sure to watch with headphones for the full experience!

Sadly, Tonkatsu DJ Agetarou will likely remain under the radar because of its controversial artstyle. Instead of cute girls and handsome men, we get a cast that looks like the Japanese version of Beavis and Butthead. The color palette for the show is very murky, and the wonky animation clearly identifies it as a budget project. For the majority, such a noticeable departure from this generation’s artstyle is enough to draw their attention elsewhere. However, a few episodes in will reveal that all of this is done purposely. For a show bearing the premise of a western adult cartoon, it makes sense that the visuals must go with the flow. Some will accuse the studio of being cheap—a claim that is simply untrue. As you go deeper into Agetarou’s story, you’ll realize that the visuals fit the show like a perfect pair of jeans.

Although Tonkatsu DJ Agetarou starts off on a high note, the show’s entertainment value steadily wears down during the second half. Instead of the usual episodes revolving around Agetarou and the challenges he faces as a rising DJ, the story turns into a slice-of-life comedy that feels like filler. For a show comprising twelve episodes with a runtime of only ten minutes each, it’s quite surprising that a drastic change in direction exists. This is not a problem for those who watch Tonkatsu DJ Agetarou mainly for the comedy, but it feels like such a waste since the growth of Agetarou is a prominent aspect of the show. Because of the show’s identity crisis, the ending suffers from a feeling of incompletion.

Tonkatsu DJ Agetarou is a refreshing attempt to introduce anime fans to the world of electronic music. The show not only contains a good balance of humor and charm to support its captivating character-driven story, but it also presents a strong moral that stresses the importance of personal dreams and family responsibilities. Though the show suffers from a weak second half and finale, its witty cast and catchy soundtrack carries the story well enough until the end.

The graceful motions of the swings, the dazzling lights of the stage, the crowd cheering with delight. These are some of the spectacular imageries of Kaleido Star, a phenomenal story about a young acrobat who reaches her dream through sheer dedication and practice. Facing countless challenges only to overcome them all, she rises higher and higher until the circus tents—no, the sky itself—could no longer limit her reach.

The premise of Kaleido Star will probably be one of the most down-to-earth synopsis you’ll ever read, but such familiarity is what gives the show its peculiar charm. Aliens, ninjas, and fifty-feet kaiju are lacking here; instead, the story ... follows an ordinary teenage Japanese girl who moves to California to pursue her dream of becoming a world-famous acrobat. Kaleido Star is glamorous, lifelike (arguably), and spirited, but there’s one term that describes it better than the rest: inspirational.

Sure, the chronicles of a budding acrobat might not sound like anything special, but the show’s colorful characters would be enough to sway even those most ignorant of the circus scene. Sora Naegino first appears as your standard bubbly teenager, but right from the get-go, we see her perform splits and somersaults for her dear life to make up for her late arrival for the Kaleido Stage troupe audition. Judging her desperate performance is Layla Hamilton—world-class gymnast, Kaleido Stage’s icon, and an ice queen of a woman. Unimpressed by the girl’s amateur party tricks, Layla kicks Sora out of the audition, possibly sending the poor girl back to Japan with her parents. It’s a powerful introductory episode that shows the futility of Sora’s passion, but most importantly, it demonstrates the steep difficulty of entering a professional troupe.

Of course, for the show to go on, Sora will eventually find her way to become a member of the Kaleido Stage, but the fact that Layla’s test is by far the easiest challenge in Sora’s 51-episode journey foreshadows the many struggles that our rising star will soon face. This isn’t made any easier with the presence of Kalos, the leader of Kaleido Stage who, much to Layla’s objection, lets Sora join the troupe. Now, not only must Sora heed to Layla’s unreasonably high standards, but she must also please Kalos by stealing the spotlight in her debut.

Another one of Sora’s challenge comes in the form of social integration. The first hurdle Sora faces in Kaleido Star isn’t learning the crazy stunts but trying to make friends with members of the troupe. Others worked hard to join Kaleido Stage while Sora gets a free pass from Kalos; how can she not be hated at first? This kind of issue harshly reflects real life and is something I once unfortunately faced during my career as a journalist. Getting special attention isn’t always nice, and Sora learns this the hard way by being ostracized by the rest of the troupe.

With trial after trial being pitted against Sora, it seems as if the writers indulge themselves by hammering the poor girl to tiny bits. This is a major complaint from most viewers—especially for the weaker second season—but I honestly don’t find it to be much of a problem. Perhaps some will feel that Sora is being abused too frequently, but the main appeal of the show anyway is seeing her battered and bruised, only to rise to the challenge like a phoenix. Kalos, Layla, and the pressure from the crowd are all fundamental obstacles that give Sora the push she needs to become the star of everyone’s desire. At some point, you’ll certainly find yourself cheering for Sora along with the audience. I know I did!

As Sora gradually masters her assigned performances, the members of Kaleido Stage slowly warm up to her. The charming duo, Mia Guillem and Anna Heart, are the first of the troupe members to befriend the lonely Sora. The three make an irresistibly adorable group, and before long, Sora and her great charisma draw in more performers to her, such as the petite Rosetta Passel. Seeing the progression of her friendship is indeed heartwarming, but it also serves as proof to how charming Sora is as a protagonist. In fact, the entire cast of Kaleido Star save for two later characters are likable.

I’ve hinted at this before, but many feel that the second season is considerably weaker than the first. Common reasons include Sora being pounded with ten times the number of challenges than before, two new “evil” characters entering the troupe, and the story progression grinding to a halt. In truth, none of these issues are anything major, and I daresay they’re even exaggerated. As I stated repeatedly before, Sora’s confrontations with her different challenges are the meat of the show, so the more difficulties she must face, the more exciting the show gets. The two new characters in season two, Leon Oswald and May Wong, might not be the most pleasant of all folks, but they’re not actually horrible either. Most will perceive their sole existence in the show to making Sora’s life miserable, but the two also have their own fair share of problems to deal with. Every character in the show have their own flaws, perhaps some more than others, but that’s what makes the cast of Kaleido Star so believable. Yes, that includes Leon and May too.

And for the finale of Kaleido Star, let’s just say that it’s possibly one of the most beautiful endings I’ve ever witnessed in my time watching anime for over a decade. This type of spectacular presentation isn’t foreign to Kaleido Star, but the finale really takes everything up a notch and builds them into a jaw-dropping last act. Everything Sora worked hard for, every blood, sweat, and tears shed by her, culminate in this final performance. The journey from the first to the final episode feels like a time well-spent. I’m not embarrassed to admit that I was nearly in tears after seeing the astounding grand finale.

Glamorous, powerful, and inspiring, Kaleido Star is the culmination of everything one could ever hope for in an anime. Sora’s rise to fame is an unforgettable emotional journey that will touch the hearts of even those apathetic to the shoujo genre. Although Kaleido Star is not without its flaws, giving it anything less than a full score is a disservice to its near-perfection.

Dragons are well-known to be fierce creatures of legend, but they can also be regarded as the personifications of good. In cartoons, children's books, and family films, dragons are often depicted as friends of men. In certain cultures, dragons are portrayed as heavenly creatures.

While all these representations are interesting, none are as adorable, nor as lovely as that of Miss Kobayashi's Dragon Maid: a whimsical tale about the life of a lonely programmer and her fantastical human-dragon hybrid friends.

As a character-driven gag series, Dragon Maid emphasizes its fun using an endearing cast. Protagonist Kobayashi may be your typical introvert, but it's hard not to smile ... whenever she quarrels with Tooru—the titular dragon maid who pledges herself to the programmer's service after a comical misunderstanding in the previous night. The stoic Kobayashi and cheerful Tooru are polar opposites, making their dynamic one of the most interesting feature of Dragon Maid. Their squabbles play a major part in evoking laughter from the audience, but there are more to them than just being elements of comedy. As the story progresses, their interactions between each other slowly develop their character, transforming them into sympathetic individuals. Dragon Maid is rife with good humor, but it's also filled with heartwarming scenes and strong character progressions that transcend it above the typical comedy.

Perhaps the element that will be overlooked most often in Dragon Maid is the desire to be human. The dragons claim to despise humans, but their obvious curiosity in our species says otherwise. The ever-so-adorable Kanna is by far the greatest example of this: although the young dragon is jealous of Kobayashi claiming her beloved Tooru, she nevertheless gains an interest in enrolling to school to learn more about the human world. There, she meets Riko, an equally adorable human girl who helps Kanna learn the meaning of becoming human. Another character who experiences a similar development is Fafnir, a no-nonsense dragon who gradually mellows out of his old facade thanks to the eccentric yet kindhearted Takiya. Like Tooru, Fafnir is initially distrustful of humans but begins to adopt an alternate perspective once Takiya shows him the joy of playing video games and writing doujinshi. Of course, Kanna and Fafnir's antics are mainly played for laughs, but their desire to assimilate with human society is definitely worth noting.

No cast is ever perfect, and the same can be said for that of Dragon Maid. The three remaining characters—Elma, Lucoa, Shouta—range from underdeveloped to terrible. Elma is at least funny and cute when paired up with Kobayashi, but Lucoa and Shouta are simply unlikable. While the other characters have some sort of trait that make them endearing, this bizarre pair exists only for the sake of fanservice. Furthermore, the backstory of how they met is a forgettable five-minute scene that's never brought up again. From all the dragons, Lucoa seems to be the only one who does not enter any sort of development phase. True, it’s likely this way because of her kindness to humans since the beginning of the series, but why not make this trait more prominent to the story? It would have been better if she aids the other dragons in getting along with Kobayashi and other humans, but alas, she did not. Some might complain that the intimate relationship between Kanna and Riko is troublesome, but I personally find it very cute in comparison with Lucoa and Shouta’s nauseating bond.

As a charming series, Dragon Maid comprises adorable character designs and a colorful palette. Although the series takes place in a city, my personal favorite setting is the gorgeous grassy plains where Kobayashi, Tooru, and Kanna goes to play. The events that transpire there might only be a fleeting moment, but the beauty of the scenery—especially the peculiar shot of the mantis and butterfly—accentuates the natural beauty of the show. On what makes Dragon Maid most amiable, the visuals only lag behind the characters.

The OP is ridiculously catchy, but the ED and soundtrack—except for the interlude theme—are forgettable. On the other hand, Dragon Maid boasts some of the best anime voice cast in recent memory. Kobayashi’s stern but motherly voice, Kanna’s cute mumbles, and Tooru’s energetic cheers are the three that deserve special attention—without them, Dragon Maid would undeniably feel less lively. My personal thoughts? I could listen to Tooru’s voice all day long without getting bored.

So is Dragon Maid worth watching? Yes, and much more. Not only is this gem of a comedy worth seeing, but it’s also the best series of the Winter 2017 batch. Delightful characters, nice visuals, spot-on voice acting, and an interesting premise makes Dragon Maid a solid top-tier show.

Desire is the cause of misfortune in teenage relationships. After realizing that the love of her life has his eyes on another woman, Hanabi Yasuraoka resolves to fill the gaping hole in her heart. The desperate girl didn’t know what to do, but fate is kind enough to grant her a chance encounter with Mugi Awaya, a boy from her school facing a similar romantic dilemma. Finally acknowledging the futility of her original goal, Hanabi decides to form a deal with Mugi: the two would enter a fake relationship, granting them the peace of mind they longingly seek under the pretense of false love.

This is the ... story of Scum’s Wish, an emotional yet flawed romance drama that explores teenage carnal desires through multiple love triangles, artsy shots, and gratuitous amounts of erotic sequences.

It’s uncommon to begin a review with an assessment of the soundtrack, but not doing so would be a disservice to Scum’s Wish excellent music. Comprising a variety of melancholy piano tracks, the soundtrack of Scum’s Wish does wonders in heightening the emotional impact of the show. Masaru Yokoyama is no stranger to composing music for anime, but his work in Scum’s Wish places him in a whole new level. To be frank, the countless love scenes sprinkled throughout the show would feel like clips of softcore porn without Yokoyama's passionate tunes to heighten their intensity. I dare say that the soundtrack of Scum’s Wish rivals that of Masaomi Andou’s earlier work, White Album 2, and that series was largely about the music.

The visuals of Scum’s Wish are simply gorgeous. The backdrops and lighting are great, but the real winner here is the commendable choice of color. Although the show harbors a dark tone, Studio Lerche didn’t shy away from making Scum’s Wish a surreal experience by filling it with beautiful colors. Another thing worth mentioning are the character designs—the cast looks like your standard teenagers and young adults, but attentive viewers will notice that some characters have particularly bright irises which are most noticeable during the sex scenes. This could simply be an artistic choice, but it does heighten emotions whenever the characters experience romantic moments. After all, the eyes are windows to the soul, or so they say. 

Now onto something less than stellar—the cast itself. Since Scum’s Wish lacks a concrete storyline, the burden of its entertainment value falls almost entirely on its characters. Do they succeed in strengthening the narrative and giving the story a clear sense of direction? Sometimes yes, sometimes no. Although the cast of Scum’s Wish succeeds in that each person in the show bears a unique personality and backstory, there’s also the problem where two of its characters are hardly needed.

As the protagonist of the show, Hanabi retains the strongest link with the rest of the cast. While most of the other characters are only relevant in their corresponding subplots, Hanabi plays a major role in shaping the development of everyone in the show. Because of this, many will likely identify Hanabi as their favorite character in Scum’s Wish. Mugi might be the man of the relationship, but as the show goes on, his stoic façade gradually fades away to reveal his more helpless side. Although he gives off the impression of a tough character at first, such is not the case whenever memories of his longtime crush come back to haunt him. Scum’s Wish does a fine job in crossing the shackles of stereotypes and adding an extra layer of depth for its two main leads, making their development rather unpredictable.

The devious Akane and simpleminded Kanai will likely receive the ire of most viewers, but this too is a ploy executed brilliantly by the show. Akane’s existence as a one-sided vamp is excessively infuriating at first, but think again: is it possible for a woman in real life to bear a personality like her? Certainly so, and they’re not exactly uncommon either. Likewise, it’s also possible for a man to be so blinded by love like Kanai that rational thinking seems to no longer exist within him. If anything, these two characters demonstrate to us well that falling in love can be a messy experience.

Then come Sanae and Noriko. All the above-mentioned characters have their own set of faults, traits, and stories that make them entertaining and realistic, but unfortunately, the same can’t be said for these two girls. Although Sanae isn’t exactly unlikable, her lesbian relationship with Hanabi feels like a shoehorned attempt to stuff more plot threads into the show. I welcome the occasional yuri, but what’s the point when all it does is introduce needless melodrama? Not only that, but the relationship between Sanae and Hanabi travels nowhere. With the show already facing difficulty in handling multiple love triangles, it seems quite cumbersome for a third unconventional relationship to be thrown in for the sake of expanding the story. Speaking of the second love triangle, the tension between Noriko, Mugi, and Hanabi is the weakest aspect of Scum’s Wish, especially since Noriko is given measly screen time comparing to the rest of the cast. Both Noriko and Sanae can be removed from the show and it wouldn’t make much of a difference.

In terms of direction, Scum’s Wish utilizes plenty of artistic shots that involve shading the screen and stressing quotes from the characters in a form of unique display. While some might find these a bit pretentious, I find them to complement the show’s malevolent tone nicely. Another exaggerated trend is the copious amount of sex scenes between the characters. Sometimes I feel the writers stuffed in these sequences mainly for fanservice, but as the show progresses, I slowly accept them to be part of the story.

So is Scum’s Wish a perfect romance drama? Not by a long stretch, but it’s undoubtedly entertaining because of its distinctive characters. There are several areas that could use some improvement, and some of the superfluous relationships could be trimmed out. In the end, however, I admit that watching these characters trying to overcome their romantic ordeals was a time well-spent.

Monster girls to ecchi are like strong characters to shounen. Just like how a shounen anime would feel strange without a cast of muscular fighters and hotheaded heroes, an anime about monster girls would feel insufficient when lacking the presence of slender harpies and buxom centaurs.

But is it possible for monster girls in anime to be presented as something else other than fetish fuel? What if they possess charm, cuteness, and character worth sympathizing for?

Enter Winter 2017, and Demi-chan wa Kataritai arrives to answer my call.

At first glance, Demi-chan wa Kataritai seems to be a harmless slice of life with a dash of supernatural ... elements. Cute girls? Check. Pleasing visuals? Check. No solid plot whatsoever? Check. All these common tropes are present, so some might simply pass it off as another moe-fest destined for the backlog. But don’t be fooled! Beneath an otherwise generic sounding premise lies an anime consisting of likable characters, great social commentary, and the right dosage of comedy.

Since it lacks a distinct plot, Demi-chan wa Kataritai primarily markets itself using an all-lovable cast. In this feat, it really succeeds. You’ll be expecting a trio of BFF schoolgirls, a teacher with hilarious romantic issues, and a biology instructor who looks like Okabe Rintarou twenty years after Steins;Gate ended. The catch? Except for our eccentric teacher protagonist, all the main characters are monster girls—or demi-humans, as the show calls it—of various species.

What makes these characters entertaining, however, aren’t their abnormalities, but rather their struggles in coping with them to adapt to human society. Hikari is an upbeat vampire girl who quarrels with her sister often because of issues such as placing her blood packs in random places. Machi is a dullahan who feels that her headless presence would forever create tension between her and everyone else. Yuki the snow woman is worried that becoming too close to others would cause them to meet a cold demise. Sakie is a succubus teacher who dresses conservatively from fear of seducing males in her vicinity. Rather than merely being demi-humans for the sake of vanity, the characters of Demi-chan wa Kataritai learn to deal with problems that stem from their irregularities. It’s an interesting formula that always provides each new episode with a fresh perspective.

Of course, how can we forget the protagonist himself? Tetsuo might be the only male and human of the group, but such normalcy only makes him even more intriguing. As both a mentor and father figure to the girls, Tetsuo tasks himself with the mission to discover more about demi-humans by conducting casual interviews with them during recess hours. Some interviews will make you laugh, others will educate you more about the girl’s species, and in few instances, these interviews can bring you warm feelings. Whatever the case, Tetsuo's dynamic conversations with the girls represent the soul of Demi-chan wa Kataritai.

Admittedly, the show can sometimes veer dangerously into harem territory whenever the girls show borderline lust for Tetsuo due to the intimacy of the interviews. But since Tetsuo is their sole source of help to cope with human society, how can we blame the poor guy for inviting unwanted attention? Thankfully, this point isn’t major enough to turn the show into a full-blown harem like Monster Musume.

Demi-chan wa Kataritai also surprises its viewers with a good deal of social commentary. Think back to the girls struggling to adapt to school life because of their differences; doesn’t that sound a lot like contemporary issues regarding prejudice? Though Demi-chan wa Kataritai appears to be fluffy on the surface, it’s certainly not afraid to tackle serious matters during certain points. In one episode, a visiting detective named Ugaki discusses with Tetsuo about the state of demi-humans in Japan. Despite being regarded as perpetrators of crimes in the past, says Ugaki, demi-humans have now come so far as to become respected members of the national police force. Another episode involves Tetsuo realizing the struggles of Hikari’s family to make their vampire daughter feel welcome at home—a responsibility that doesn’t burden them even one bit due to their overwhelming love for their daughter. These problems might only be a fleeting extra for most people, but attentive viewers would be quick to draw parallels between these subtle messages and real-life contemporary issues. Small tidbits like this make Demi-chan wa Kataritai an engaging show to just about anyone.

Now that the darker stuff is out of the way, what about the humor? In a time where most slice of life rely too much on their moe factor to produce chuckles from the audience, Demi-chan wa Kataritai thankfully carries a brand of comedy that feels surprisingly genuine. Loudmouthed Hikari is obviously the main perpetrator of laughs, but I also had fun watching Sakie struggle with romantic concepts and Machi being oblivious to non-academic pursuits. During the second half, however, the show feels somewhat less funny, but that may be due to the story trying to wrap things up for the finale.

Character designs in Demi-chan wa Kataritai are nothing groundbreaking, but the show’s bright color palette creates a good match with the uplifting nature of the story. The hair color for the girls and the scenery of the backdrops give me the impression of a city version of Non Non Biyori, another slice of slice series which ironically bears many resemblances to Demi-chan wa Kataritai. The OP and ED themes are catchy enough, but what’s most interesting about them are their visuals. For a small treat, pay careful attention to them as you progress through the show.

Proving that anime with monster girls can be something different, Demi-chan wa Kataritai marks itself as an endearing slice of life that plays with the not-so-similar elements of cuteness and social issues. Despite being buried underneath this season’s big hitters like KonoSuba S2 and Masamune’s Revenge, Demi-chan wa Kataritai won’t fail to surprise viewers with its interesting take on an otherwise unremarkable premise.

My only wish now is that I can find a real-life figure like Tetsuo to be my life coach.