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Goodnight Punpun is a manga that prioritizes cynical navel-gazing over a cohesive narrative.

A point by point analysis should suffice:

1. No Substance
The entire manga does not play out as its own story, but rather a showcase meant to portray the author’s self-inserted philosophical worldview. It almost feels episodic with how disconnected a lot of the arcs are, with the only point of reference between them all being its generally downtrodden tone. The story is routinely riddled with a never-ending slew of unrealistically “depressing” events meant to make the main character’s (Punpun) life as shit as possible. While the current moment of said events does a decent ... job at sufficiently capturing his response to the situation, it ultimately receives little to no follow-up, thereby lessening emotional impact. Essentially, whenever something “significant” in the story happens, the main character only dwells on it briefly, before moving on, as the next traumatic event will be sure to hit him on the way out. The best illustration of this could be found with the manga’s monologues about the human condition and how every attempt at finding solace in escapism is futile. In essence, said dialogue is profound on a surface-level because it offers no unique insight into the matter, it’s just the author's general bitterness towards anything that could be considered wishful thinking. Moreover, these monologues are essentially a substitute for the main character’s (Punpun) personality. The intention behind Punpun’s character design being a faceless bird aligns with him being a “blank slate,” for the viewers to interject themselves into. Interjecting oneself into the story doesn’t work, simply it relies on the reader sharing the same "wallowing in self pity" mentality and values. So, what are we left with? A lousy excuse for a character devoid of any personality; his only personality traits are his depression stemming from his failure to see a world aligning with his idealistic image, possibly to manipulate the reader into not-so-subtly agreeing with the author’s worldview. Additionally, his juvenile nature throughout most of the story never changes; his entire character only exists to do the exact opposite of what a civilized reader may think is “just” in any given situation. Wait, that’s what Goodnight Punpun was trying to portray? Okay, what’s next? You’re telling me that my mom’s real name isn't “Mom!?!?!?”

2. Forced Edginess
Believability is sacrificed in an attempt to emotionally manipulate the viewer. As with jump scares being a cheap way to startle the viewer, without said substance being particularly scary, shock value for the sake of shock value is a cheap way to elicit a response of disgust. Shock value is very difficult to get right, because it relies on being instinctually manipulative. It first needs to have a groundwork of believability, so that it’s not over-exaggerated. Additionally, it shouldn’t be overdone, and centers on characters that either underwent sufficient development so that the reader/viewer has a level of emotional attachment to said character. Goodnight Punpun doesn’t necessarily do either of those, because there are numerous traumatizing events that are perceived as shocking because they are only characterized as such. In other words, the events that take place that could be deemed as traumatic often lacks depth because it’s clear that it was present not because it needed to be, but rather to further the manga’s “emotionally mature” facade. Much like the events in the story, many of the characters in the story are only characterized by a selection of negative traits, and then act on them. This manga has it all; self-harm, lewd imagery, rape, death. Basically whatever can be added is added without any consideration towards if it adds anything of substance to the story. To build on the story’s substanceless and monotonous tone, the resolution of said traumatic events nearly always follows a similar pattern: Punpun is temporarily saddened by the event, which causes him to briefly monologue about how his life is trash; however, in due time, he quickly forget about said event, so that the next traumatic event can be squeezed in. Often, said events have little buildup and rely on unrealistically characterized hot-heads that are incapable of forethought. Something as simple as a brash to the shoulder or a lighthearted joke would be sufficient to send someone into an uncontrollable rage. How are the adults in the story supposed to support themselves? They can barely control themselves in their humble abodes, let alone the real world. These events need to be believable, not a sequence of one traumatic event after another piling on top of each other.

3. Shabby Romance
The pretense of mature themeing is added into the story to give it a superficial sense of depth. As the previous points might’ve highlighted, events in the story are mostly added to make the story appear deeper than it actually is. The “love at first sight” trope is already nauseating, as is any other Disney-esque trope. In fact, romance is probably one of my least favorite genres; adding the shitty trope was just pouring salt on the wound. Romance is typically a cheap way to redirect the main character’s priorities away from what he originally wanted to achieve in the first place. Nevertheless, it’s best not to brush off an entire genre and let personal values get in the way when making a decision. In an attempt to describe their relationship objectively, it could be classified as mature given the age of the two lovebirds. Aiko is a strange character, because the level of maturity that can be seen in her dialogue makes her seem like she has the mentality of someone in their late teens or early 20s (she is 11, mind you). In the earlier chapters, she reaffirms Punpun’s thoughts in an almost nurturing tone, in a way that a teacher is employed for the purpose of instilling civilizational values into the minds of the enrolled students. Perhaps the epidemic of cougars directly translated into the story, in which Aiko cruelly rewards him by playing the role of a cougar and teasing him. Perhaps this is why she became alienated? Like many other points and conclusions the main character reaches, everything inevitably ties back into the pessimistic nature of the story’s themes. The dynamic between Punpun and Aiko feels as if it was made to appeal to those that refer to themselves as “former gifted kids,” who believe they were smarter than their peers at school because they read at a fourth grade reading level in third grade.

4. Difficult To Take Seriously/A Clockwork Orange: the Manga
Many of the events in the story that are meant to be about depression are difficult to take seriously because of the humor that follows it. If forced edginess weren’t enough to break immersion, perhaps the humorous depiction of graphic scenery would convince the reader otherwise. The entire manga feels like a repeat of my “A Clockwork Orange” viewing experience, because a few similarities can be found between the two. The presence of lewd imagery that is often childishly sprinkled in in an attempt to add shock factor is perhaps the most obvious. Additionally, the main characters in their respective media happen to have the same motivation to do whatever the viewer/reader doesn’t want them to do, and are part of a “lackeys” group created to achieve said goals. Moreover, both of them suffer from the same shortcomings of prioritizing imagery as a substitute for storytelling, which makes it a slog to get through both of them. The only difference between the two is that “A Clockwork Orange” was possibly meant to portray how people can be rehabilitated, whilst Goodnight Punpun’s was the opposite in its depiction of everyone being an animal that acts on its base desires.

Quick list of funnies:
• Whenever g0d pops up in the story, there’s the occasionally blunt description of what Punpun is thinking.
• Whenever younger Punpun copies the actions of his delinquent gang an action related to his beak. Ex. an ice cream cone wrapped around his beak.
• Whenever Punpun acts like a retard.
• The female birds’ tits look like corndogs.
• Punpun’s face is plastered on whoever’s Johnson happens to be featured in the current chapter. Really makes you think that Mama Punpun’s tits don’t have his face on them, dontchya think?

5. Boring to Read
All the points mentioned above culminates into the fact that the story is not enjoyable to read. While the story not being enjoyable to read most likely aligns with the author’s intent when writing Goodnight Punpun, the actual reason lies elsewhere. It’s not the so-called depressing nature of the story that makes it unenjoyable, but rather it can be found with the insufferably monotonous tone of the series. There’s little sense of progression throughout the series, as much of the story is littered with either graphic scenery or insufferable monologues used to justify the existence of said graphic scenery. Additionally, there can be long stretches of scenic artwork that can stretch over multiple pages, possibly with the intent of directing the viewer’s attention aware from the bare-bones plot. Point being, both of which are done to death, which makes many of the chapters memorably blend together, leaving the reader with similar feelings throughout. The monotony of the manga’s presentation can also be found in the story, where similar patterns arise as to how many of the events play out. Anticipating the events that ensue whenever Punpun and another woman happen to find themselves in the same space to play out any differently from the event that preceded it would be delusional, because the story is gratingly formulaic. Additionally, the story also has a habit of possibly breaking the cardinal writing sin of “show, don’t tell,” with how often certain characters in the story have their emotional states described before the chapter begins. Goodnight Punpun accomplished most of the things it set out to do, albeit through rather shabby execution. However, a story fulfilling its defined purpose doesn’t necessarily equate to one that leaves the reader with any impact. The story practically rarely progresses past its edgy and juvenile outlook on the world, and how one may cope with the disillusionment upon realizing that the world isn’t sunshine and rainbows. However, when it does, the rapid change in tone renders the inevitable downfall of many characters indulging in brief moments of pleasure predictable.

Goodnight Punpun was not made with the intention of it being enjoyable to read. Therefore, it’s not enjoyable to read, but for different reasons.

***Premise spoilers***

The concept of a series in which a psycho German loli can possibly turn the tides of a “Pseudo-Great-War” is an interesting one, to say the least. Granted, no eight-year-old girl is thought of as having the mentality necessary to fulfill the role of a military strategist. That said, she is no ordinary “whatever” year old because her juvenile appearance hides a sinister secret. In fact, the concept of rising from the ranks shouldn’t pose much of a challenge to her. Moreover, the amount of experience she has as a leader, arguably skilled or not, could help leverage her to the position she values ... ever so. Given her small stature, the fact that she easily finds herself as a recruit all while rarely being questioned about it is almost as absurd as the setting itself. It may seem ridiculous that she was able to accomplish so much in so little time given how little time it would take. However, her sinister secret is found in her past life as an unnamed, ruthless boss apathetic towards the needs of anyone but himself.

The entire series plays out as a critique of postmodernism. As the title suggests, the series tells the rather unheroic tale of Tanya. In the beginning, her not-so-tragic end was a bit of a spiteful one, in which his entire being pissed off the series’ g0d. While acting as the lead role for his company, he was able to secure himself a life of comfort, which led him to gluttonously indulge in his easy life while neglecting the spiritual realm. In turn, his social standing soured his character as he continued to stray further from the ideas of what the g0ds constitute as a Good Samaritan. Like many others, he is a citizen in a civilized society that is able to address the physical needs of their citizens (food, water, shelter, etc.), allowing them to pursue other activities besides fighting for survival. For the most part, modern societies give their citizens a false sense of power in which citizens are able to dedicate their life’s purpose towards their own goal or meaning. However, the easy fulfillment of their needs can easily lead to one becoming bored, which in turn leads them to seek “easy dopamine.” When pertaining to the series, the main character’s goal was to have a career and live the easiest life possible. Unlike a job, whose sole purpose is thought of as generating money for oneself so that they can pursue said leisurely and unevangelical pursuits, a career intertwines with people’s personal lives. Occasionally, jobs are thought of as a definitor for someone’s place in society. For example, the question of “what do you do for a living?” is a common talking point. This could be thought of as a substitute for “survival,” since “wageslaving” is the new meta. Otherwise, people devote themselves to a hobby during their allotted free time, in which turning towards g0d is unnecessary for both survival and/or an arguable sense of fulfillment. The old boss, viewing himself as rational and realistic, denied the existence of said g0d by using logic. The usual expectation of science answering many questions that were once never conceived of as g0d’s mysterious ways of working is out of the picture. Instead, his tale soon begins by questioning him as a malevolent g0d. Now, why would a supposed “all-loving g0d” do this? Simple, spite.

After his (now her) reincarnation, she finds herself in a bit of a rut as everything she’d hoped to strive for is now taken away from her. Unlike her previous world, survival doesn’t come so easy as an orphan in a nation torn by war. Despite this, she must take whatever she can to survive to get a hold of a similar position of comfort she once had. As mentioned previously, she joins the military as her magical capabilities were stronger than the other children at the orphanage. Perhaps desperate times call for desperate measures, which is why she was quick to be recruited, regardless of her age. Having said that, Tanya as a character is prioritized solely due to the fact that the entire plot is a petty revenge story rather than a “by-the-book” military setting. Throughout the entire story, the entire series only goes as far as to showcase this psycho’s need to spite the g0d that has now proven himself to be real. Indeed, the intention of her not being created as a likable character probably aligned with Tanya’s characterization as a psycho. However, aside from a few moments, it gets boring rather quickly, as nearly every scene following her character follows the same formula of Tanya effortlessly pushing aside whatever obstacle is in her way. After all, this is Tanya’s revenge story, so she’s the only character that is written for the explicit purpose of not being a background character.

The actual world she finds herself in has its fair share of simplicity. The entire world is a near-direct translation of the two World War eras, with World War I gaining a bit of an edge as the actual start of the war seemed to be delayed by a few years. Notably, the only difference between the two would be the series’ use of magic. However, issues arise when said magic is paired with the pseudo-Great-War, because the existence of said magic often negates the need for the setting to be grounded in a set time period. For example, trenches can be seen stretching across the battlefield, which exists possibly due to the writers’ need to translate nearly everything war related into the series. However, these trenches would be useless because there’s magic that allows people to fly. The reason why large-scale trench warfare wasn’t used in World War II was because more advanced military technology made many WWI defenses obsolete. For instance, Nazi Germany’s blitzkrieg was a tactic practically defined as being a fast-paced surprise attack for the sole purpose of making the lives of the defenders as difficult as possible. Besides, there are few stakes throughout the series, as Tanya’s own “blitzkrieg” by using a crap-ton of magic is used to bypass any seemingly difficult situation to get out of. Essentially, the actual background of the setting has little relevance because any other time period characterized by the need to fight for survival could’ve been used.

The actual plot thereafter is mostly mindless because it’s composed of nothing more than what is to be expected of a war series. Like any other war series, there’s the spillage of blood, there are scenes of men lined up ready to face the possibility of death, and when things turn sour, there are scenes of military officers panicking. Were it not for Tanya’s tactical expertise (which was basically pulled out of her ass, let’s be real), the Empire would’ve been doomed. However, as a quick break from the fighting, there’s a bit of war jargon going on in a few instances, such as when they discuss military tactics. In particular, there was one debrief that is memorable, in which the possible turning point of the war is discussed. While the plot is decent and all, it lacks the emotional moments expected from a war series. To make it worse, the story practically has no ending because a large war at the scale of what the series describes it as couldn’t have fit into all twelve episodes.

The series does have some good art, which made much of the mindlessness more tolerable. Since it’s a story set in a war-torn nation, the art uses many dark and muted colors, which helps give the series a chilling atmosphere. The only break from the gloomy atmosphere can be found with Tanya, whose devilish nature is often overlooked due to her standing as a small girl in the military. After all, Tanya’s character design is what the series is known for. For instance, her cheeky smile whenever she goes psycho is used whenever something eventful is going to happen. At times, it’s quite creepy, because even a toothless smirk can hint at what’s coming. Additionally, her voice is often used to do the exact opposite of intimidate her opponent, which is what she often hopes for (less the wrong person question she's actually ruthless, instead of thinking she’s just a loli). The animation is also a highlight, as the war is defined by movement.

The Saga of Tanya the Evil is not remembered because it has a great story. Well, of course it’s not; it’s remembered because “it’s that one anime that has the psycho Hitler blonde-haired A-10-eyed loli.” Compared to other isekai, it’s a bit of a step up from its counterparts because the main protagonist wasn’t made to be a self-insert. Besides the main premise, the series doesn’t do much to set itself apart from any other generic war media. In other words, this series essentially does the bare minimum.

***Premise spoilers + minor spoilers when providing examples***

After a quick glance at both the cutlery featured promotional cover and the synopsis hinting at a dark fate that awaits all orphans, the premise shouldn’t come as a surprise. Basically, the cattle of the series begin lamenting the fact that their happy days living on the farm will soon be over upon discovering that their rancher isn’t a nice lady. In fact, the brilliant exposition of the first episode helped build suspense for an academy conspicuously like no other. The entire mood of it was so skillfully crafted that it raised my expectations for the other eleven ... episodes. This is where the main issue lies; the other eleven episodes of the series are a slow fall from grace. Promised Neverland wasn’t bad per se, but its potential was definitely squandered by lazy writing. Life as a cow isn’t always pleasant on Mama’s farm. Moo!

Promised Neverland’s main issue stems from the writers awareness of the series’ lack of material for a satisfying twelve episode series, which leads them to make the plot superficially complex. Throughout the story, the children’s goal is hinted at being seemingly impossible due to their limited knowledge of the outside world. However, upon completion of this series, their objective didn’t necessarily require twelve episodes. Without majorly spoiling it, most of the materials needed to reach their goal are already acquired in the first three or so episodes. Given that most of the story has been resolved already, the most jarring example of the writers stretching the series longer than it needs to be is the inclusion of insignificant plot points. Furthermore, to keep the viewer engaged, these plot points involve cheap cliffhangers that make the viewer anticipate the next episode, only to disappoint them afterwards. Among the most pointless of the bunch would include the Morse code books that are supposed to give the main characters a background of the orphanage. Supposedly, these books are donated for the sole purpose of providing the orphans with information (arguably propaganda, but it’s absent since the main characters were determined since day one) about the orphanage they live at. The unanswered issue present is why the books were even donated in the first place. Wasn’t the entire purpose of the academy to only teach certain knowledge to their pupils so they can be fed to demons? Unless Isabella is careless, loves clutter, and doesn’t read anything she possesses, these books would’ve realistically been discarded of. The Morse code books were simply one example, but there are a few other plot points that similarly contribute to the series wasting an entire episode. Basically, the middle of the series is entirely filler under the pretense of being a thriller.

Realistic worldbuilding and realism are sacrificed to supposedly level the playing field between the adults and children. The best example of this could be found with the main characters running and jumping better than Olympians in addition to being able to literally run up walls. For instance, one of these episodes uses shitty physics in order to explain how Norman is able to reach the top of a wall. Despite the wall being described as smooth and ungrippable, he is able to get up with relative ease. To set the scene a little bit, all of the trees are shorter than the wall, so a rope cannot be thrown towards the top while he climbs it. Conflicted, his plan to reach the top involved tying one end of a cloth rope on the top of a tree trunk in order to sustain himself while he uses momentum alone to reach the top. Though the strength of the rope itself can be seen as a bit of a nitpick, since cloth rope is somehow able to support a 75 pounded child, it's more excusable than the shitty physics. While it somehow works for the series, it wouldn’t work if it had any basis in reality because his plan defies gravity. Firstly, the rope is useless because it’s affected by gravity as well and it’s tied to one surface. Secondly, momentum alone wouldn’t work because people cannot run up 90° angles. A more realistic solution would be to stick plungers to their feet depending on how much suction they have, even though it would be a cartoonish solution.

The amount of plot armor in the story is annoying. Practically any tense moment in the series is broken by the writers taking the cheapest route possible since the story wouldn’t progress realistically otherwise. Did I mention that the main characters could teleport? Episode one for example (there are possibly more, but this is the first that comes to mind), Norman and Emma decide to venture out at night unsupervised to perhaps give a final goodbye. Since the children are aware they’re committing a big no-no, they must cautiously trek towards the gate whilst they avoid being spotted. When they found themselves to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, they hid under a truck to avoid being spotted by their supposed main threat, which are the demons. However, with a keen sense of smell, the demons are able to pick up on a scent nearby that is reminiscent of their scheduled meals. Caught in the crossfire, the children seemingly have no way to get out of the situation. Understandably so, the children can’t simply remain in one place due to the fact that they’re already putting themselves in danger, so they must escape. Now, how does the writer go about writing their escape? Well, they simply cut to a scene where the children teleport into the middle of the orphanage’s field. Yup, that’ll do; they would’ve been seen otherwise. Apparently the humans were made to be the demons’ subservients, but the fact that a group of kids outperforms them in wits and agility makes it seem as if it were the opposite. In that case, feeding the demons children in this series would be like a police officer training a sniffer dog without a sense of smell.

The main trio as characters themselves can either be seen as generic or tropey. Emma is the generic optimistic character that probably has several lines in the series pertaining to the general “we can do anything if we just put our minds to it.” Her direct opposite, Ray is a cartoonish depiction of an angsty emo teenager, the kind to scoff and say “ugh, whatever…”. The only difference between Ray and the would-be emo-teenager is that Ray is eleven. His generic characterization serves the basic purpose of being pessimistic towards anything that may come up in the story, possibly to either be an easy character to hate or as a means to kickstart some child’s emo phase. The final three of the trio, Norman, feels more like a side character, because his character mostly exemplifies what the main trio are known for, which would be their intelligence and kindness. His purpose in the story exists to be a “tie-breaker” for the main dichotomy between optimism and pessimism. The other characters in the story aren’t any good, because, excluding the main trio, they’re shown to not be as intelligent, so they’re dumbed down as such. Additionally, most of their character development happens last second through flashbacks. Excluding the planning, the character interactions should’ve been the most interesting aspect of the series, but most it boils down to either planning, moralizing/demoralizing, and calming each other down. On top of the series not necessarily being plot driven, it isn't necessarily character driven either.

The visuals could be described as atmospheric, given how well it fits the tone of the series. For example, the lighting is moody when it needs to be. Moreover, it doesn’t feel the need to be especially bright, especially when the tone is more light. Aside from the visually appealing atmosphere, the rest of the audiovisuals practically exude shouen. Everything from the character designs meant to help the main characters pop out alongside the animation are pretty generic, all things considered. The only aspects of the art that could be considered a notable break from the visually appealing art are the dumb faces the children make whenever they show joy.

Promised Neverland’s main benefit is that it can still be entertaining, even with all of the issues present. It works for its intended target audience, but for those that decide to rewatch this (like I did), some of the issues stated above would become pretty apparent. The series didn’t know what to do with most of its screen time, so it simply fills it with unimaginative plot points hinted at being important, which is merely filler and wastes the viewer’s time. Additionally, said filler hinges on unrealism, which makes it seem like the main characters possess superpowers. Besides the fact that they’re plot armored, the characters in the story aren’t memorable aside from a singular trait made to make them easily distinguishable from each other. Promised Neverland is handled in the cheapest way possible when it tries to anticipate viewers, which makes it easy to see that the writers played it way too safe. Life as a cow isn’t always pleasant on Mama’s farm. Boo!

***Minor spoilers throughout when providing examples***

Furry racism

It is sometimes inevitable to both acknowledge and state the obvious when it comes to certain offendable qualities of a particular series; Beastars is one of them. Indeed, it is a story that involves anthropomorphic animals. Additionally, the choice of animation being 3D GCI also sticks out upon seeing everyone’s janky movements for the first time. Simply watching a mature (or kinkier) version of Zootopia does not necessarily mean also desiring to partake in wearing brightly colored animal costumes, even though the correlation is present. Anthropomorphic animals have always fascinated humans for some reason, because the time period of ... their interest stretches from the earliest cave paintings and fables all the way towards the more the historically recent TV trope of talking animals. Beastars is a bit of an outlier because of its seemingly more degenerate take on the trope that typically appeals to children. To reiterate, don’t pass a series such as Beastars for the sole purpose of avoiding the potential furry allegations. At its core, it’s a series that relies on its anthropomorphic storytelling, so it wouldn’t be too asinine to label it based on a first impression.

The premise of Beastars is one where herbivores and carnivores self aware of their own image supposedly live in harmony. Considering that the story is set in a multi-species society, the worldbuilding must depend on a very soft science, with the direct opposite of hard science also being applied. The worldbuilding mainly takes the approach of being a near direct translation from human societies. Basically, Beastars is a social commentary that mimics a ton of social justice issues present in modern society all while attempting to mirror it with animals as a fun quirk. The different roles the animals play in the story can be interpreted in a variety of different ways. An example of the most obvious role could include controlling one’s own desires, as seen by Legoshi’s character. Given the story’s focus on social dynamics, a notable strength of the series allows various different interpretations pertaining to the same story, particularly distinct societal groups defined by race or sex. However, said strengths mostly rely on an unexplained plot. Additionally, when the real natural world is applied to Beastars, the entire world falls apart. While it does address some of the more obvious questions that arise, such as how carnivores gain nutrience in a society where meat consumption is banned, it ignores the less obvious. A surface level analysis of the worldbuilding may seem to make sense. However, it falls apart when elements of the human world are applied to it.

Funnily enough, one might assume that Beastars is set in a vegan and unvystopian world where consuming animal products at all is illegal. However, the society the animals live in is vegetarian contradicts the social justice theming in the story. Unless the series is made to be a commentary in itself, which in other words means logical inconsistencies, it ignores the real world parallels. Contrary to popular belief, animal products have to come from somewhere. One scene in specific explores the idea of a client (Legoshi in this case) consuming egg sandwiches that are made from one of his classmate’s eggs. In particular, it focuses on Legom’s monologue regarding his classmate Legoshi, who she refers to as the ponderer due to his saddened facial expression. Additionally, she is a perfectionist that is worried about the quality of the eggs. While this scene in particular is nothing too special, problems arise when the excessive amount of egg sandwiches contradicts the realism of hens not being able to shit out eggs all day. There are other hens in the series, but Legom is the only hen that is shown to lay eggs for the purpose of selling them to the school. Unless these sandwiches are reserved for a select group (since Legoshi is described as a loyal customer), their popularity elsewhere wouldn’t make logical sense. Notably, popularity relies on quantity on top of quality, although quality is more ideal. Vague writing can easily convey quality by suggesting that a product is good, which is in contrast to quantity, which must be explicitly shown or demonstrated. Otherwise, the writing regarding the egg sandwiches is vague, so it’s mostly up for interpretations. For instance, egg sandwich recipes can use a different amount of eggs, but the use of only one can be assumed to make more egg sandwiches. Since Legoshi eats them weekly, he uses either 1/7 or 2/7 of the supply. Either way, it’s more bit of a nitpick than an outright flaw since the series does attempt to address it. The same cannot be said for milk, which is also allowed to be consumed legally as seen by the carnivore students’ rations. While there is soy milk, the carnivore rations include actual milk (the description plainly reads milk), which comes from cows. From what I remember, there weren’t any cows in the story, so the supply would have to be realistically minimal. Furthermore, cows need to be pregnant to produce milk. Unless cows are secretly held captive and forcefully bred in the black market, the seemingly large milk supply wouldn’t make sense. Beastars, a world that parallels one where animal products are sourced from exploitation, doesn’t apply the usual social justice themes when it comes to certain animals being used as products.

Much like the long forgone hard science, a lot of the soft science fails to delve deeper than surface level worldbuilding. The main issue present is the story’s tendency to parallel the human world while simultaneously passing off the animal society as simply an allegory. Furthermore, the story takes the idealistic approach to much of its setting. The issue with the attempted allegory lies in the fact that a world entirely situated between different species would not use the same social and industrial mechanisms present in ours. As a singular species, humans have already killed, conquered, enslaved, separated, and coexisted… or not, which is what Beastars is trying to point out. This phenomenon isn’t only present in one race or sex, but it can be argued that the allegory is supposed to represent systematic oppression rather than a natural tendency towards violence. All of this raises the question of how the history of this world unfolded. For systematic oppression to exist, one group would have to establish dominance over the other. An easy answer to this may seemingly be carnivores overpowering the herbivores, but this comes with a few issues. Coexistence is the process of two things simply existing together, but it usually refers to two different groups or “cults”, which is why a certain bumper sticker comes to mind. The actual cause of their coexistence is never addressed in the first place, which is an issue because it would be a losing game for both sides. Herbivores cohabitating with groups of people that want to kill them would face the most danger, but for the carnivores, their herbivore counterparts would be simply a burden given the laws enacted. If the animals served as an allegory for race, their intermingling wouldn’t make sense without an explanation. Considering that certain traits are tied to their genetics and their environment, homogeneity would be the standard were it not for immigration. Since the series provides no other explanation, the possibility of either herbivores moving to the carnivores (voluntarily or not) wouldn’t be off the table. At best, Beastars is a social commentary on power dynamics, with no parallels to a world it attempts to parallel so much. Since when did lions and zebras ever want to coexist?

Other points of shitty worldbuilding could include:
• There are larger animals in the series but all of the cars are the same size. Assuming highways exist, large animals would be trapped in their hometowns.
• There are smaller animals in the series. Given the amount of violent large animals in the story, there is nothing hindering the larger animals from simply stomping on them.
• Certain animals are shown to possess weapons in the story. However, only carnivores are shown to do so even though herbivores would benefit from the much needed protection.
• There are animals in the story that only exist in the real world because they’ve been bred by humans. For example, Legoshi (a wild wolf) shared an apartment with his friend Jack (a domesticated dog). There are also other domesticated animals in the story such as housecats but they aren’t on screen as much. Without humans in the story to breed dogs for specific purposes, the existence of tamed species such as him would simply not exist.
• Beastars entire setting takes place in a city. Given that the animals inhabit the city instead of the wild, the area which animals usually inhabit would be left desolate with overgrown plants everywhere. The addition of actual animals would make sense. Beastars may or may not have had small animals in the story, but the inclusion of them would answer the world’s lack of life. To illustrate, small birds may be added in the character’s pathway that are animated in only to be scared away to give the world’s scenery more life.
• Beastars is hinted at being a conservative society, but it only goes far as being ingrained among the citizenry’s minds.
• Most importantly, there’s no explanation provided for the Beastars society being unsegregated in the first place considering the fact that it benefits neither party.

Legoshi, being the protagonist, is at the forefront when it comes to societal expectations. He is a socially awkward and perverted gray wolf that often unintentionally intimidates herbivores (and even carnivores), with his sharp fangs and large body. He seems dead inside, though not in a way that is overly edgy, but rather in a way that makes him seem constantly tired, which especially emphasizes the intimidating first impression. As a result, he is frequently seen as an outcast in the drama club, where he works behind the scenes. Given the previous considerations, he has a significant level of self awareness and often makes him self-loathing when it comes to his reflecting on his background as a wolf. Nevertheless, he is typically depicted to be a kind individual that tries to make himself seem less intimidating to his classmates. His esteem only faces reinforcement when confronted by a few characters, with the most notable of the few being his rabbit friend Haru. He is often questioned based on the genuineness of his love for her, since he is a carnivore. The few characters in the story that are either strong or brave enough to confront him (often Louis) often assert that his love for Haru is simply a weird fetish. At times, he tends to get defensive when he is accused of having carnivorous desires get the best of him, which causes him to react in an aggressive manner. As a consequence, he often believes his love for Haru is just his carnivorous desires manifesting themselves even though he believes his feelings for her are genuine. This could be due to his self image issues since others’ words tend to get the best of him. Throughout the story, Legoshi faces inner turmoil as he builds both self confidence and self control, as he is expected to suppress his carnivorous desires.

Commonly referred to as “lone wolves,” the great irony is found with Louis being a deer and representing the sigma male archetype quite well, unlike his wolf friend. While it isn’t used as much to represent real life wolf social dynamics, the definition was spun to represent male archetypes instead. The sigma male term for wolves is used more colloquially, but it essentially boils down to those that have achieved dominance in the pack’s hierarchy. Whether it’ll be through strength of wits, it was (and still is, but less frequently) commonly used as a term to describe wolves with a higher access to mates and territory. Unlike alpha males who are also at the top of the hierarchy, who pride themselves in being leaders, sigma males are more nonchalant when regarding their status. Point being, Louis does not feel the need to boast while he upholds his status in the school’s hierarchy. Since sigma males are a cultural phenomenon nowadays, the correlations between Louis’ character can be easily tied to other sigma males in media. Patrick Bateman is a notable example, with one of his most famous scenes being a near direct translation into the Beastars series. Even from the very first few scenes, Louis is depicted as a staunch sigma male with a stern expression on his face walking amidst a crowd. Unlike Bateman however, Louis is cartoonishly swooned after by practically any woman that he walks by. Although it may be somewhat of an exaggeration to compare the two, the analogy was made to illustrate what the sigma male archetype is rather than a means to represent his entire character. Given that he is both an herbivore and the lead of the drama club, it leads to a batch of issues for both the carnivores for both Cherryton and himself. For certain carnivores, his status is seen as contradictory towards their own interests, since the school’s drama club challenges the norm of the outside world. Cherryton is interesting in this case, since a liberal school in a society described as conservative had to have been brought up by children rebelling against their parents, a normal thought for any teen. Louis’ desire to take a stand for the meek can be seen as fulfilling a desire to become a revisionary. Would it be his strong sense of justice or a desire to fill the image of a strong hero? He definitely has both of those desires, but the latter encompasses his main desire of wanting to be seen as a role model. Cherryton’s drama club can be seen as a representation of Louis’ entire life, an act. Additionally, his status as the leader of the drama club temporarily grants him leader status in a society where the group of people he detests (carnivores) rule. He is the type of animal who feels the need to compensate for his feelings of inadequacy in other areas of his life, which would his include himself being a deer. He often hides his weaknesses and doesn’t seek help in order to maintain his tough demeanor. Even when he is severely injured, he tends to dismiss it, especially when there are many onlookers. He is a man of wits and strength, but despite his own physical strength, he is envious to those that possess raw strength that comes naturally to them. Since he is cautious, he is not trusting of many carnivores (Legoshi) and feels the need to protect those (Haru) that are weaker than him. Due to his popularity in the school which could be attributed to his strong sense or justice, he considers himself to be a moral character. And he is, first impressions are the go-to for his character. Throughout the story, Louis’ character development is mostly a mix between either dropping the act and knowing when to act.

The final three of the main trio would be Haru. Out of the main three, she is the most self aware of her own issues despite her behavior which hints at otherwise. Due to this, she’s most unlikeable of the bunch because she has very few redeemable qualities. Her main shtick throughout the series is a slut rabbit that’s unable to multiply. As a result, she gets bullied and thereafter excluded by other herbivores which leads her to pursue her own interests elsewhere. Notably, she is the sole member of her own gardening club. Her only redeemable quality in the story is her maturity when it comes to making unquestionable decisions. As an outcast, she uses the little control she has over her life in order to feel a sense of power since her stature is small. Since she is used to being outcasted, she is initially suspicious of everyone she meets, Whether by chance or not, the people she often sees, and often pursues, are those who society warns her about, which are carnivores. While she acknowledges her behavior which puts her in danger, her mentality of giving into her instincts persists as a main problem for her. She upholds a bit of an act as a coping mechanism when it comes to playing off her innocence. Due to this, a first impression leads her to be no more than a slutty conniving rabbit whore. Of course, she’s an easy character to hate, but it the writers drill the fact that she’s easy for the viewers to hate.

The fact that Haru can be seen as an easy character to hate can be come off as both intentional or not. From a character standpoint, her character is easy to hate simply because her self-righteous slutty behavior can come off as irritating. She’s frustrating, unconventional, and many of her positive qualities are overshadowed by her negative ones. For certain viewers, she can be seen as an ungrateful and conniving who puts the people she supposedly cares about in danger. The cause of this only goes as far as Haru giving into her instincts to make herself feel better. Despite wanting to be seen as something more than a fragile being to protect, she frequently regresses into her instincts (though she is aware of it) of wanting to be overpowered. Biological inconsistencies aside, wanting to sleep around to feel powerful would do the exact opposite. From a writing standpoint, the writers throw in a curve ball towards the end of the story to make her seem more important than she actually is. Essentially, her character arc of not wanting to be seen as weak is both rushed and swapped with Legoshi’s character arc of gaining confidence. My main gripe with this entire season is found in one of the later episodes which involves painting Haru as a would be “damsel in distress” character... or not. Whenever she comes to the realization that her behavior might put herself in danger she immediately contradicts herself. Again, the introduction to this focuses on contrived writing that focuses on an illogical mishap “plot point” that gives unwarranted importance towards her character. Given the desire of the other two main characters, Legoshi is tasked resolving the half-assed plot point that is introduced for the sole purpose of rushing his character development. Since the writers know a seventeen your old child can only realistically do so much, they supply Legoshi with an unlimited amount of plot armor. Plot armor? In a supposed slice of life series at a school? Beastars’ writing is a bit weird because while it does encompass many themes that could fit under a giant umbrella of the general “social justice” issues, the story itself is nauseating when it tries to be anything more than a slice-of-life set at a school. Overall, while the series does a great job at introducing three dimensional characters with thoughts, feelings, and motivations, their character arcs are done haphazardly.

If Beastars’ strong main character introductions weren’t enough, the introduction of side characters could reinforce the notion that the series’ strongest aspect are the characters themselves. Introducing Juno, another gray wolf. There’s no other way to describe her other than the fact that she’s just a character. Her debut in the series was the most entertaining of the bunch. However, her character is essentially slandered by the writers since they didn’t know what role they wanted her to fulfill, so they took the simple route. While she is likable, her character only goes as far as wanting to fulfill the role of a woman, Legoshi’s woman. She can be quite obsessive, and she can almost be considered a yandere due to her immature obsession. It’s a bit creepy at times, since she’s interesting in a man that is seemingly interested in her the least, which is funny because Legoshi and Haru’s dynamic is very similar. To fulfill this stalker role, she seeks status and often doesn’t pay attention to the receiver's feelings. So, her feelings for Legoshi stem from the idea that they would be the perfect couple given that they’re the same species. At times, she saw Legoshi as more of a prize to be won when competing against other women (Haru) which leads to her almost seeing him as a status symbol. Like Haru, she probably had her own instinctual reasons as well that made her feelings not entirely disingenuous. However, her need to force herself onto him made her never overlook Legoshi’s exterior. Due to this, Legoshi is rightly uncomfortable and pursues the slut rabbit instead.

Throughout the entire series, Juno underutilized considering what her character could’ve been. To put it more bluntly, she’s arguably the character with the most wasted potential. Unlike the main characters, she already fulfills her role in Beastar’s conservatively described society. That being, a woman should want to look pretty and be in a relationship with a man. Not to suggest that a character wanting to be traditionally feminine is what makes a character boring. In fact, despite her lack of maturity, she’s more pleasant to watch as a viewer since her character is underutilized rather than overutilized, which Haru is. Her commitment to fulfilling her societal role has a few positives, which includes her desire of wanting to help others. Additionally, her infatuation with Legoshi can be interpreted as a desire to help him build self confidence, as seen by many awkward encounters. However, Legoshi realized that they aren’t going to be compatible in the long term and immediately shuts it down in favor of wanting to pursue a rabbit slut who wouldn’t go to the same lengths Juno does for Legoshi. How Juno handles this doesn’t change as the entire series progresses. Basically, the writers’ treatment of her as if she were worthless only stems at fault due to poor writing. They only go as far as introducing other men in the story, only for it to backfire for Juno, followed by her inability to handle to situation maturely. There are tidbits where Juno does not follow this pattern, particularly those that involve interacting with people she doesn’t like, which notably includes the white bunny rabbit. She may seem passive, but can be quite assertive and condescending towards the white bunny rabbit. Her internal monologues really put Haru in her place, if only she was able to project said feelings to give the viewers a sense of satisfaction. Well, her one strength is making people uncomfortable. For the most part, Juno has good intentions and it’s easy to see why she could be considered a likeable character, but the lack of character development felt like wasted potential.

Season one in particular focuses on interpersonal relationships more than any other season. Much like the hypothetical allegory for different species representing race, they can also represent gender norms. The main duo, Legoshi and Haru, behave in a manner which is unlike the social expectations they are supposed to align with in the Beastars society. Haru’s character is straightforward, because ever since she was young, the thought that she is weak has been instilled in her by society, her family, and most notably herself. For example, throughout the story she is shown to frequently “regress into her instincts,” which is brought up whenever she “accepts” that she is weaker and only seen as something to either be protected or taken advantage of. Additionally, it could tie into her role of being submissive where social dynamics can effect personal relationships, or the kinky Zootopia appeal. Besides, their roles have essentially switched. Given that she is both a rabbit and a woman, her weakness in terms of strength is essentially doubled. In nature, a rabbit should avoid a wolf at all costs. Unlike nature however, the Beastars society’s supposed main goal is for all animals to live in harmony, which is why the Beastar role is sought after (more on that later). How would a rabbit avoid a wolf in this situation? Truth is, it’s an exaggerated analogy that could tie into one of the several notions ingrained into those in a similar position as Haru. As stated previously, she loathes her weakness, so she’s more confrontational rather than avoidant when it comes to wanting to feel powerful for once. While doing do, she does overstep the boundaries of what it means to be traditionally feminine in the sense that a woman isn’t expected to make the first move. Moreover, it would take a greater deal of effort to overcome what has been instilled into her. For the most part though, the message is still valuable since being cautious could save one’s own life. Legoshi’s is a bit more complicated, because while Haru embodies weakness in almost every sense of her character, he embodies both strength and weakness. At a first glance, his strength is the aspect of his character which stick out the most. As a result, he both retains his perception of being strong, all while he doesn’t feel that way due to his timidness. When it comes to interacting with others, the idea of him being approachable is tied with the expectation that he should be the one initiating most of his interactions. His strength is highly valued, but not when it serves as a means for either targeted violence or a tool someone else’s ideology to take hold. Essentially, he is expected to be assertive, but not aggressive unless actually needed to or else everyone will become docile. Unlike his rabbit counterpart, the thought that he will grow up to be strong has been instilled into by the same groups (besides her, obviously) which were responsible for giving Haru a different, and yet similar mentality.

Aside from a few of the unrealistic character interactions and nonsensical plot points, the rest of the story isn’t much better. Beastars has a habit of introducing story elements only to do nothing with them. The main hook of Tem’s death is hinted at being a major plot point in the beginning only to be practically forgotten about, say from a few scenes of Louis laying down flowers next to his memorial. His death is seemingly a tragedy but the only thing most the students seem to care about is the drama club’s next show. It’s only deemed as less of a tragedy because these types of events are hinted at being commonplace in the Beastars society. Even so, there is little investigation pertaining to Tem’s case. A progressive society such as Beastars shouldn’t pass on the case of one victimized by systematic oppression. Besides the main drama club, the rest of the plot mainly focuses on the characters interacting with each other, which has already elaborated on in previous paragraphs. Ergo, Beastars is great at introducing certain parts of the story (except for the part used for Haru’s development(, but does a poor job at fleshing them out.

The art itself ties into it being Beastars being a “furry” show. Besides the anthropomorphic characters, the most notable aspect of the art, or rather the animation is well... that. The 3D animation used in the series can either be perceived as lazy or stylistic, depending on how one looks at it. It’s not fluid at all and the characters look stiff, especially when they’re standing in one spot as if they were a stiff corpse. In fact, practically everyone in the series looks lifeless given how little the characters actually express themselves. Legoshi is dead, but that’s only because he was described as such in the egg sandwich episode. Otherwise, the choice of eyes that are used for Haru look really weird. In particular, the first episode has a lot of these strange quirks, but as time went on, it became easier to simply ignore it.

By all means, Beastars is still enjoyable to watch, even though the more technical aspects of the show and the rushed story drag it down a little. Unless one were to watch this solely because of the quirky animal characters, getting over the most “off-putting” aspect of the show shouldn’t pose much of a challenge. As is, the series works wonderfully when it introduces characters, themes, and parts of the story. Though the characters can come off as exaggerated, they are all well thought out (but not fleshed out) three dimensional characters which have realistic goals and motivations. Out of the main three, Louis was the best due to his lesser involvement of the other twos’ “situationship.” Regardless of Haru being a non-cardboard cutout character or not, she was the worst of the bunch mostly due to the massive amount of unwarranted importance she receives throughout the series. Consider the notion of the entire series playing as more of a social commentary made to convey themes rather than tell a story. While it does indeed try to a story (key word try), the writers seem to have caught themselves up when it comes to tackling many different themes and character arcs in a twelve episode series. In pursuit of wanting to appear as politically progressive at possible, the series sacrifices the necessities for a satisfying conclusion.

Slime 300 is a bit misleading because it does the bare minimum to consider itself as an isekai. This can be seen by the start of the story, which only asserts itself as such before moving on and quickly forgetting about it. The setup involves an ephebophiliac deity who takes pity on a woman named Azusa who has dedicated her life solely towards her job. In fact, she dedicated so much time to her job that she just collapsed then and there due to the amount of both physical and mental stress she underwent. She took the literal saying of “don’t work yourself to death” ... and collapsed with it. Afterwards, the deity asks the now incorporeal soul if she has any wishes, to which she expresses her desire to be both youthful and immortal. And so, her wish is granted, and past life as an office worker which has been cut short, can be reshaped to form an idealized life free from stress… or so she thought.

In her newfound slow life (in her words), she is spawned into a world that allows her to live the life she pleases. Now reincarnated as a witch, she moves into a large unoccupied house with many rooms. Given that she isn’t quite adjusted to her new slow life yet, she passes the time by making it a routine to kill slimes. Upon killing a slime, a handful of blue crystals would drop, which leads her to inquire about the currency in the city’s adventurer’s guild. To be a bit misleading again and to play around with the semantics, it’s not as much of a killing slimes anime because it’s more akin to a found family CGDCT. Semantically, “I have” would suggest that the slimes have already been killed. However, the story has to be set up in order for the killing to happen, so it strays away from the brief mention, even for a brief moment. The thing is, the story addresses this matter in a really uninspiring manner because it just skips over everything. Obviously, not all 300 years can be shown, but a little bit of scenery or a small compilation of time skips could’ve helped make the story feel more immersive. The story is set up in a way similar to that one kid in school that would claim they did 100 push-ups but only claimed to do so because they started at 97. Regardless, Azusa gets caught up on killing slimes and unknowingly maxes out her level, hence the title.

After the time skip, she possesses both a great amount of powers (or perks) and respect from anyone around her, much like any other generic isekai protagonist. Being a witch, most of these perks pertain to witchcraft, with the most notable of these (besides immortality) being elemental powers resembling witchcraft. She was so caught up in her work that she neglected checking her progress with the adventurers guild for 300 years. There's no lore reason as to why Azusa couldn't check for level for over 300 years, but it at least adds to the overall absurdity of the plot itself. The world seems like a time capsule because it has remained practically unchanged for all 300 years. The only notable event that occurred throughout the three centuries was a plague, which is historically appropriate for a medieval-esque European village. Given Azusa’s reputation in the village, her quest for a slow and easy life slowly diminishes. As the series progresses, more and more otherworldly beings “take an interest” in her and join her family. Parenthood is appealing to a lot of people, but its practically the antithesis to a slow and easy life. Basically, she got set up.

Azusa as a character mostly ties into the story’s theme of “don’t work too hard and take it easy.” She’s also a humble person that doesn't like to brag, even though she can be a bit assertive here and there. Most of her character focuses on finding a balance between work and leisure. Given the tragedy in her previous life, she encourages others to not work too hard as well. This can be seen by her very hospitable nature, which makes her question the possibility of starting a “found family” under the pretense of acquiring both companionship and an easier life.

***Episode 1 spoilers***

The first character she meets, Laika, helps to demonstrate this. Much like those before her, she attempts to challenge Azusa in an attempt to make a statement that she is the strongest in the highlands after catching word of a spilled secret. The only difference between her attempt at it and other measly humans is the most notable: she’s a red dragon. Azusa attempts to dismiss this challenge under the pretense that it was simply a rumor and that she is simply seeking a slow life. However, Laika’s juvenile and prideful attitude makes her insistent in the face of hesitancy, which makes the unwilling Azusa give in. As the battle commences, Laika is shown to naturally possess the ability to breathe fire in her dragon form. Additionally, her size would prove that a good deal of agility would be needed in order to defeat her. Considering the witch’s newfound powers and humble attitude, she handles this in a timely manner. After playing defense for a bit, combining the elements would prove to be successful. Afterwards, Laika’s dizziness causes her to collapse on Azusa’s house, which rightfully pisses her off. Laika, scared by her confrontational tone, pledges to repay her by helping rebuild her home. To her surprise, she shows up the following day in human form. The endeavor of reconstructing her house is a time consuming process, and without Azusa’s instructions to prevent Laika from exhausting herself, it wouldn’t have been done. Upon completion, she transforms into a dutiful maid to help Azusa ease into her new slow life. The message of not overworking oneself to death is transmitted from disciple to pupil.

***End of spoilers***

There are six other characters that join the family, but they’re either cute or forgettable. As of now, a well needed second season is in the works to hopefully flesh out the characters, since a good chunk of them join Azusa’s family halfway into the series. Despite the basic description provided earlier, I do have a favorite out of the seven, and that favorite would be Flatorte. Much like Laika, she too is a dragon. The most notable differentiator distinction that is found between the two would be Flatorte’s blue color and tail that pops up in her human form. In relation to the color blue, she also has weird hair loops that are reminiscent of Satania’s from Gabriel Dropout. Nevertheless, it is her personality that makes her stands out from the rest of the girls, mostly because she’s the most brash of the bunch. Much like Laika, she joins the family after losing a battle towards Azusa, the only difference is that a moral code was broken. Rather than be dishonorable, she pledges her oath towards Azusa under the ruse of fulfilling any of her orders. Given that Azusa is more adjusted to her new life as the series progresses, she finds a loophole and instructs Flatorte to live in any way she pleases. She mostly exists to compete for Azusa’s attention with Laika.

The audiovisuals are good because it aligns with the series’ intentions to be a cute moe thingy. Since its purpose is to be cute, the character designs must be well designed. Well, the series excels in this regard, since the character designs are Slime 300’s most commendable aspect. Excluding the slime twins who have similar character designs for obvious reasons, the rest have a distinct style that sets them apart from each other. Were it not for Azusa’s design, I probably wouldn't have picked up the series to begin with. The thing is, her design is occasionally swapped out with something more formal depending on the situation she finds herself in, with the only downside being the loss of a hat. Additionally, the backgrounds use a lot of soft colors that help the characters pop out. The only downside to the art itself is the dip in quality when it uses a bunch of different camera angles, because it makes the outlines vary in thickness. The animation also has a few dips in quality depending on the scenery, but it’s not as notable as its overall decency.

In conclusion, Slime 300 is a series that succeeds due to its simple premise and character designs. As the genre suggests, it’s an isekai by its name, but the premise of it is almost alluded to which can be seen by the brief mention of it at the beginning. Afterwards, it’s not mentioned at all and only serves as a motivator for change for the main character and her seeming subordinates. The message of a slow life is simple as its told, but after the first episode, it’s reinforced visually instead of audibly. The characters tie into the themes, Azusa even more so, which is why her character could be considered thematic. Not to suggest that her character role is limited to conveying these themes, because while it is important, the series does a good job of making her character seem human, which can be seen by a great deal of both her egotism towards herself and compassion for the people she cares for. The artwork, which uses soft colors stands out because the series understands it’s the main appeal. Overall, Slime 300 is a bit juvenile since it’s the basic moe slice-of-life shtick, but it works wonderfully based on what the series is trying to achieve.

If Azusa didn’t have a witch hat, the series would be a 6/10.

I watched this exactly a year ago and retained practically nothing of substance, so I was tempted to watch it again. Unfortunately, my feelings on this series remain unchanged, even just after finishing it. Hellsing only seems memorable because of Alucard and Seras, but it was for their designs rather than their personalities. When it comes to both the story and the characters as people, they honestly can’t be regarded as anything more than decent or fairly average. Hellsing is a clear depiction of style over substance that doesn’t stand out in any sort of way.

Hellsing somehow managed to make its story both largely repetitive ... while still being random and directionless throughout. The story itself is fairly straightforward because a large majority of it is mindless action composed entirely out of vampires, blood, and guns-a-blazing. The organization known as Hellsing is tasked with targeting and eliminating monsters of the supernatural who are ravaging England. Alongside the fight with the Hellsing organization, an officer by the name of Seras is critically wounded. Were it not for Alucard who appears out of thin air and saves her, her story would end right then and there. From here, most of the story switches back and forth between Seras’ new life as a vampire and the overarching enemy releasing the ghouls. Or, that’s what was supposed to happen, due to the amount of random scenery that persisted in between the supposed main storylines. Besides that, the series has no clear direction with the amount of random plot points that can be seen. Essentially, a crap ton of things simply happen for the sake of happening. At times, this series felt episodic with how disconnected some of the episodes can be from each other. The subplot about Seras’ adjust to the vampire life is present, although minimal. In contrast, the main “plot” is prioritized, and yet it lacks any suspense or tension, which in turn made Hellsing rather dry and boring. To top it all off, the ending takes the cake for being anticlimactic.

Alucard is the reason why most people are probably here, but he’s more of a background character. In turn, his character lacks a lot of depth since he only exists to fulfill two purposes. One of those is to fulfill the role of being a Gary Stu, and the other is to save Seras whenever she’s in danger. His only notable personality trait is his “coolness,” which is why he’s both lauded after and seen as the main appeal of the series. To expect the badass as promised by his super-vampire capabilities would only lead to disappointment, because not even he has a kryptonite. Much like Alucard, Seras as a character (writing-wise) still suffers from a lot of the same shortcomings. She mostly fulfills one singular purpose, which would be unintentionally putting herself in danger. While doing so, she repeats her own “catchphrase” much like a Pokemon creature to the point of it being the only notable aspect of her character. Her character arc involves her slow adjustment, but more-so “cope” with her new life as a vampire. She is initially accepting towards her new master as her life was saved, but as the series progresses, she’s actually shown to be more hesitant to act. This may seem like her slow realization that her old life is now gone, but this type of behavior is only seen in the very beginning. Essentially, the aspects that are shown versus those that are told contradict each other. With the exception of Integra fulfilling the same characteristic of being cool, the entire cast doesn’t have much going for them.

Hellsing’s only real strong point is the art, even though it’s dated for the time it was made in. Despite being made in 2000, it looks like it could’ve been made a decade earlier. The heavy emphasis on style benefits the art in a way that wouldn’t benefit the overall narrative. Notably, this series does know how to maintain a consistent aesthetic. Much of the evangelical and vampirist imagery is as present as the series’ blood. Everything in this series looks British as well, since even a quick glance confirms this. Additionally, this series has a bit of shock factor, but the only psychological aspect of it is found in the OP, where some dude puts a knife up to his tongue. In contrast, the animation’s quality is inconsistent and it looks rushed. While certain shots, particularly those that are up close and focus on lip syncing were visually done well, the running animations look like they were animated only using a few frames per second. Much like the story and the characters, the art could mostly be described as cool.

Hellsing doesn’t even do the bare minimum. While it can be enjoyed mindlessly, there’s nothing worth investing in. The main issue with this series is that there are a lot of elements that aren’t memorable at all. This is mostly due to the substanceless nature of the series, which prioritizes aesthetics over a coherent and enjoyable storyline. The story itself is seemingly basic, but it’s made convoluted by the amount of random scenery flashing by (even with the slow pacing) in a “well, that just happened” kind of fashion. With one of the characters being the main appeal, one could expect that he’s well done, but he’s not. The art is the only saving grace, but even then, it’s not enough. Hellsing works if a flashy war between ghouls and vampires sounds interesting in itself. If not, consider watching something else.

Some of the other reviews are saying that Hellsing Ultimate is better; I hope it's not as much of a disappointment.

Shinsekai Yori, also known as Shinsekai Yaoi and/or Shinsekai Yuri, is a series that can honestly be described in one word, and that word is boring. It’s a series that’s only redeemable in one aspect only, and that is its worldbuilding. If that is the only thing you seek, then there is certainly some enjoyment to be found. However, the series mostly suffers when it tries to get its ideas across. Shinsekai Yori can’t really be described as a story, because the methods used to convey it are executed so terribly that the entire series honestly resembles a very boring documentary. In an attempt to ... combat this, the story attempts to make its rather boring storytelling more entertaining by adding in both cheap shock factor and homoerotic romance, all of which involve really uninteresting characters. Shinsekai Yori tries to be a slow burn, but it simply fails because it takes all of the fun out of storytelling.

The only strength of this series is the concept of its worldbuilding. It’s a strength that expresses itself as more of an “idea” rather than the quality of it itself because the execution is so mundane and boring to the point where it complicates the process of confirming whether the setting makes logical sense or not. Notably, the story routinely doesn’t follow the idea of “show, don’t tell.” There is so much the story wants to tell the viewer, many of which rely on unnecessary details in a “don’t blink or else you’ll miss it” kind of fashion, that it makes the viewer question if the worldbuilding is that great in the first place. Frustratingly, the story allocates long stretches of time towards spoonfeeding the viewer with information. This can be seen by multiple episodes where an unspecified number of kids would simply stand in one spot and listen to someone who doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of things lore dump. To make it convenient for the story, only the correct amount of information will be told to the viewer so the “mystery” aspect of the story doesn’t instantly end. Rather than actually fleshing the world out by dotting itself with its lore here and there, it’s expressed in the most boring way possible. Its method of storytelling takes away from all of the potential mystery and suspense the series could’ve had. Thus, whether the worldbuilding was good or bad, it doesn’t really matter in the grand scheme of things when compared to the execution of it alone.

Shinsekai Yori’s story in a nutshell:
Arc 1: Brave New World but run by an incompetent Buddhist academy + exposition dump
Arc 2: “Cantus is dangerous” + lore dump
Arc 3: Queerat racism/discrimination from the perspective of a British colonial surveyor in the 1880s.

Additionally, the series also has a habit of constantly reminding the viewer about events that already happened. Notably, the glowing robot dog loves to rehash the same line about bonobos fucking each other to calm down. Holy shit, bonobos fuck each other to calm down, we get it. This would’ve been fine if it were explained twice perhaps, but the series itself makes multiple references to bonobos which is really grating. Additionally, the loredumper thing feels the need to explain every little action the characters do, even the more mundane action of the characters’ implied sex. It ties back into the worldbuilding itself, which relies on being easily forgettable because it’s not fleshed out in a unique way. Mainly, the story lacks a sense of cohesion because it mostly throws concepts at the viewer and hopes they stick. It takes Shinsekai Yori six episodes for something to either not be either a setup or a lore dump. Even then, the first ¾ of the story is really boring and unsuspenseful (this doesn’t make it a slow burn, by the way, this is just wasting the viewer’s time), mostly because it follows a constant pattern of:
>Nothing happening
>Everything happening all at once (usually just someone monologuing a boring ass lore dump)
>Nothing happening (again)
>Reminding the viewers of what has already happened previously
>Nothing happening (again)

The characters themselves aren’t even characters, they’re just pawns of the plot. The story fails to provide any reason for the viewer to care about them as individuals. Excluding Saki, the rest of the characters fulfill the sole purpose of moving the story along, only to be discarded later. Saki is the only character I ended up remembering at the end because she was the only character who couldn’t entirely be described as a pawn. Though, her only personality is that she is nice... and occasionally sad when she is involved with one of the series’ lore dumps. The characters within the main group are practically indistinguishable from each other, and their similar character designs don’t help at all. At first, there was one kid who was mean to one of the other characters (I think it was Satoru and Saki). However, this was simply transient and he quickly assimilated into the hive mind. Despite the characters starting out as children (who are known to develop), they don’t mature in any way whatsoever despite the characters’ motivations to explore the outside world. The main character, Saki is the most disappointing of the bunch because she’s still hinted at being brave but is still the same whiny sensitive brat she was at twelve years old. The writing constantly hints at her being some “great leader” but the story don’t demonstrate (show, don’t tell) this at all. When pertaining to the third arc, she’s supposed to be portrayed as a kind soul in order to bait the viewers with the treatment of the Queerats, but there are actually very few instances where it’s shown that she is actually kind (niceness and kindness aren’t the same thing). Overall, the characters being bland soured a lot of the forced edginess and homoerotic makeout sessions, since the series loves to add a twinge of both.

As if the world didn’t already lack any meaningful substance, (with all of the world’s substance found in a select few and all), large parts of the world are painted in a gross, drab gray color. While it is better and more refreshing than all of the bright lighting other anime tend to use, adding a bit of saturation here and there won’t hurt. The only hint of color in this series are reserved for both the beginning of the series and the yuri/yaoi scenes. Additionally, the character designs are creepy looking and uncanny, which makes the characters look lifeless. For example, when the glowing robot dog is lore dumping in the fourth episode, the group of kids would all have either a rodent-like death stare or that face old people make when they suffer from dementia. There’s also some bloody shock factor, but it’s only featured for one minute out of the entire series.

The animation itself is pretty awful because it has a noticeable dip in quality after the fourth episode. It looks like the series was swapping out art directors with how inconsistent the quality of it is, which makes it seem like this series has been made with a really small budget. At times, the characters’ lips don’t match up with their dialogue, even during moments when the characters are shouting. Additionally, the series frequently uses awkward close up shots of the characters’ bodies that mostly focus on their limbs and lips. Regarding the lip animation, it resembles the style of a Muppet when the characters are excited, given how wide their mouths are. The animation also uses a lot of shitty CGI when it comes to animating trees, arrows, and boulders during the battles with the Queerats.

Shinsekai Yori simply lacks a compelling narrative. Most of the story’s time spent on screen is dedicated to reciting its own lore to the viewer. The intention behind this being to create connections within the story, but even the writers seem to think that the viewer might fall asleep, which is why the story repeats itself a lot. When pertaining to stimulation of the eyes, the audiovisuals are quite bad, which makes it difficult to engage with the setting as a viewer. Additionally, the characters are also bland, which is possibly the worst aspect of the series because the story can be considered at least decent if the viewer feels the need to engage with it. A never ending series of autistically explained loredumps don’t make good storytelling.

Genocyber was a bit of a surprise. While it’s mostly a generic mecha anime with the added shock factor, its messaging is very disjointed. To expect an all out gorefest would be delusional. I had been naive once, but upon completion, the story itself is weirdly cryptic and nonsensical. Genocyber isn’t one linear story; rather, it’s divided into three parts that don’t necessarily feel connected together. The only thing that helps string it together is the creation of the new weapon of mass destruction itself.

Genocyber tells the story about how man’s creations can lead to his own downfall. The story itself is seemingly cryptic because ... there’s a lot packed into a five episode series. As suggested by its title, the main focus of the series is on the Genocyber, a mechanized alien robot with psychic powers. The researchers behind its creation help a girl who behaves like an animal named Elaina pilot the new mechanoid. However, this wouldn’t be possible without her older sister Diana, who is no stranger to the concept of having the body modified by technology. The mad scientist who forced Elaina to undergo extensive experimentation, often inhumane, results in her descent into madness. Consequentially, she loses her control and goes on a destructive rampage that kills dozens. As the story continues, the stakes get higher as more die, which forces humanity to take more drastic measures. To combat the Genocyber, humanity does whatever it can and begins the construction of new technology in order to neutralize the machine. Humanity gets desperate and irrational as the Genocyber continues its rampage on Earth, which causes a lot of infighting as the human race clings onto survival. Essentially, all hell breaks loose.

Though Genocyber’s messaging is cryptic, and at times nonsensical, its purpose can be seen as a revelation of the uglier side to human nature. To get the most obvious aspect of it out of the way (in the literal sense), the amount of blood and guts should be a dead giveaway. Additionally however, Human behavior can be modified in times of crisis in ways that are harmful for everyone, with the exception of a select few. This includes the acts of murder, betrayal, and internal conflict. Much of the fight against the Genocyber and the need to shelter humanity is in the hands of a select few. A closer look at the last arc reveals that humanity took dictatorial measures in order to ensure their survival. Those who challenge authority are killed. In response to this, gangs and cults emerge as a “last bastion” for humanity. Overall, the desperation of all humans is noticeable after the shift in tone.

While it may seem like any other mecha anime because of its super generic setup, there is the psychological component as well. The main issue with Genocyber is that it mostly suffers from a lack of direction. This can be seen by the fact that the writers tend to make stuff up as they go along. For example, random design choices would be made, which would affect Elaina. Her body at the beginning of the story was just that of another girl’s, but the next episode reveals half of her body being cybernetic (including when she isn’t fused with the Genocyber). The psychological component mostly focuses on Elaina and the remorse she faces after going on a rampage. She has a soft spot for children and is reminded of their deaths through images of their hallucinatory, ghost-like bodies. It mostly feels as if it were present just to be present, because Elaina’s reflection on her actions only go as far as further deepening the mental scar.

The audiovisuals are pretty good even though they are a bit dated. The best part of it is the overall eerie feel to it. Indeed, the cityscapes and the Genocyber are cool, but it’s no match when compared to a few of the shots in space. There’s also a lot of flashing lights, but it doesn’t even compare to the scenery itself. Much like the story’s concepts, there’s a lot of flashing lights and explosions that are thrown in for no reason other than to be flashy. The ending music sounds really cool, it fits in with the story well, and it practically screams 80s/90s. It really shouldn’t be anything special, because it’s simply a product of its time.

The series is known for being pretty graphic, so it indeed delivers. Obviously, it’s going to depict more than blood resembling red paint. Especially at the start of the series, it doesn’t hold back and throws in a barrage of gore, even when it doesn’t make any sense for it to be there. The human body and all of its organs are nearly displayed in their entirety, just with the mechanical aspects to it. Occasionally, there would be the a realistic display of some flesh and eyeballs, but its more weird than shocking. It’s quite minimal in the last arc, so don’t expect the entire anime to be a gorefest.

Genocyber mostly delivers when it comes to the main appeal. The only main difference that stood out was the unexpected, cryptic and mostly hashed together storyline. Overall, it’s not noticeably disappointing or appealing in any sort of way, but it could be a bit boring sometimes.

***Possible weird wording to avoid spoilers***

Kimi no Na wa is an illogical, pseudoemotional, slogfest of a movie.

Slogfest:
The first part of the movie is kind of a time waster, because it primarily serves as a really long and drawn out exposition focusing on a concept that, if removed, wouldn’t meaningfully change much of the movie. Nevertheless, the story must begin somewhere, so it gets its foot in the door as a basic slice of life as lived by two high schoolers of different families. The additional premise to the scenery-pornographic slice of life would be the body swap. Granted, the fact that this film is rated ... PG-13 in addition to the lack of a setup led the writers to write off the concept as a cheap gag. Near the end of the film, it receives a cheap explanation, but it ultimately contradicts the two characters’ behavior (but not motivations) in the beginning (see paragraph 2 title). Additionally, the characters aren’t even endearing or interesting in any sort of way because they’re barely indistinguishable from each other. It honestly feels like both of the characters were added in to be [generic male protagonist] and [generic female protagonist] to make the writing easier. At best, the body swap premise works as a simple plot device to both waste the viewer’s time and move the plot forward.

Illogical:
The second part of the story is frustratingly illogical because it relies on characters written to be stupid for the sake of drawing the story out longer than it needs to be. Plot conveniences are practically everywhere, so, without delving into spoilers, the generic male main character (not even going to try with this one) is written to coincidentally forget certain past events, and whether they’re important or vital for the plot plays out conveniently. Additionally, the second "plot twist" (yes, there's two) relies on the [generic male protagonist] being functionally illiterate since it relies on something that needs him to read to realize, which reinforces the grating nature of his inability to remember things. Given that he is written to be not so bright, he is somehow able to remember one of the special places he's been with the [generic female protagonist], which then makes him remember one specific clothing piece that belongs to her. Basically, the explanations provided in the series only amounts to nothing other than random astronomical bullshit thrown in for the sake of conveying a corny message.

Pseudoemotional:
The movie tries to be emotional, but it just fails. For a romance to be heartfelt, the characters need to be interesting. The main issue with the characters is that they aren’t realistic and the “emotional connection” between the two is extremely forced. This can be noted by the characters’ lack of chemistry with each other. I mean, the [generic male protagonist] had already developed feelings for his coworker. Surprisingly, the story handles this in the most hilarious way possible (funnier than all of the other “comedic” moments of the series), because the [generic female protagonist] helps set up a date between the two. This would only make sense if she has a weird cuckoldry fetish or something, but even then, she needs to firstly convince him to indulge in the same depraved fetishes she does. In addition to this, writing can be seen as being incredibly corny. Barely any of the dialogue spoken by the two felt natural and grounded in reality. For example, the [generic female protagonist], after helping the [generic male protagonist] with a girl, texts to herself “it’s all thanks to my feminine side,” or whatever. Firstly, the [generic male protagonist] is already a spineless pussy indistinguishable from his female counterpart, and secondly, no real human writes like that. What does congratulating oneself for aligning themselves with a trait stereotypical of their kin even accomplish? Additionally, a lot of the astrological bullshit also ties into both of the characters needing to save the day together and stuff, as if the movie couldn’t be any more of a purposeless mess.

The art is phenomenal, but that’s all the entire movie has going for it.

At the end of the day, the entire story is a generic teenage “star-born lovers” and “we were just meant to be together” garbage. The movie is incredibly boring, characters as well; their motivations, behavior, and romantic feelings for each other don’t make sense. To top it off, the only explanation this series offers is utter nonsense. I felt absolutely nothing from start to finish, I was just immensely bored.

Side note: I'm curious as to know why this review is "confusing.”

Is it cute? No.
Is it funny? No.
Is it insightful in any way? Take a guess.

Tenshi no Drop is not where one would typically find it, so I had quite the experience of watching it firsthand without any proper recommendation. Despite this anime only being five minutes along however, I was bored to the point where I was just hovering over the pause button to watch the red bar slowly scroll by. At least it’s still harmless for the most part, because it’s just substanceless lolicon humor for five minutes.

It gets a 2/10 instead of a 1/10 because at least the animation is decent.