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With Superstar being the franchise's fourth and latest adventure, it's understandable that some may be reluctant to watch once more a series seemingly treading familiar roads. Coming less than a year after the third Love Live series, Nijigasaki, I was worried of the fatigue that may come from yet another shuffling of the cast.

Those fears, however, were misguided.

Superstar revealed itself not just as an excellent anime in its own right, but also the most fresh the franchise has been in nearly a decade. Contrary to expectations, Superstar is actually a slice-of-life anime first, and an idol anime second. Where the previous series opted for ... a more dramatic approach to the storytelling, Superstar looks instead to comedy and catharsis as a means of connecting with its audience. There is no impending doom from the girls' school potentially being entirely closed, nor is there romantic tension or heated rivalry in the lieu of Saint Snow's portrayal in Sunshine— quite the opposite. Instead of striving to make the audience teary-eyed, Superstar looks to instill joy and laughter.

In many regards, the 'school idol' setting of the franchise is more a backdrop than a primary focus. The girls do not even decide on a group name until the last few episodes of the season. Those looking for performances and idol moments may find Superstar's first season feels like more a prologue than a first half of a story. And, naturally, this means Superstar will not be to every Love Live fan's palate.

But it is exactly this aspect that made Superstar so refreshing for me, as a veteran of the franchise. If I wanted those idol moments, I would watch the original once more. If I wanted drama, I would watch Sunshine. And for romance and emotionally-charged character moments, I would watch Nijigasaki. By breaking away from genre expectations, Superstar succeeds in crafting its own identity, which is perhaps the single most important characteristic for a franchise now in its fourth stage.

Superstar also withdraws from the nine-girl trope we have come to expect, and instead focuses on a smaller cast of five girls. For the most part, this is a wise creative choice for a two-cour anime, as the previous series would typically have two or three characters that are significantly less developed or interesting than the others. But this does not necessarily mean the five girls from Superstar are profoundly more developed than the girls from previous series. Rather, the unnecessary characters have been trimmed, like a chef treating to the fatty parts of a steak.

Kanon and Chisato are the standout characters from my perspective, a level above the rest of the cast. It is rare for a girl in Love Live to play the role of a mentor and instructor, as all the girls typically start out as fresh-faced newcomers. This is largely why Chisato grabbed my interest early on in the story, as her goals regarding music, as well as her long-time friendship with Kanon, tie in neatly with her later addition to the group. The anime also does a solid job of making Kanon's and Chisato's friendship with each other feel natural, through the work of several flashbacks and episodes dedicated to expanding this part of their characters.

And, while Kanon may sport a similar design to previous protagonists Honoka and Chika, she is much more interesting than her predecessors. Kanon is actually opposed to involving herself with school idols at the start of the story, due to childhood traumas and ever-present stage-fright, an important issue that many idol anime fail to touch upon. So, rather than being the instigator and vehicle for the group's activities, Kanon is actually a major participant in the story herself.

Ren is also a recipient of solid characterisation. While she initially appears to fit the mold of the stereotypical class-rep, objections and all, she has perhaps the most meaningful backstory of all the girls. My only issue is that the anime has detailed her mom's experiences, but has shown little of Ren's own feelings and ambitions towards the world of school idols. Perhaps this will be explored further in the second season?

This leaves Keke and Sumire. While these two have adorable character designs and are the cause of some hilarious moments, they aren't quite as developed as the other three. Sumire is essentially Superstar's comedic relief, abducting the protagonist and literally wearing a poop-themed hat in one scene! Her ambitions of becoming the group center are sympathetic, though, due to the feelings of inadequacy she's no doubt endured throughout her experiences in self-proclaimed show-biz.

Conversely, Keke is a force of cuteness and plays her part by encouraging the rest of the group, but doesn't have any outstanding moments or features at this point in time. As someone who was also a foreigner living in Japan for a number of years, I'd like to see Keke's experiences adapting to Japanese culture explored with a bit more detail and finesse. As it stands, the foreign aspect of her character seems primarily a means to broaden the franchise's appeal with its large Chinese fanbase. So, while Keke may indeed be speaking Chinese on Japanese TV, I'm still not entirely sold on this element of her character when she otherwise behaves just like any ordinary Japanese girl would.

The art in Superstar is of a high caliber. Love Live always set high standards for itself in this regard, and Superstar is no exception. In tandem with the series' more easygoing nature, the art style has also shifted slightly, as there are larger contours and rounder faces characteristic of much of the slice-of-life genre. Those with a distaste for cutesy art designs may have troubles with Superstar, but then it would almost be paradoxical for someone averse to cuteness to be watching such anime in the first place.

Superstar's music is wonderful, as is the norm for Love Live. I particularly appreciate the way the ending song starts early and leads naturally into the ending cinematic, in a similar vein to other popular anime like One Piece. My only issue is that there are not many full songs actually performed by the Superstar girls over the course of this initial season. But the songs that do exist, including the opening and ending, are excellent, and there is not more I could ask from them.

That said, the 'rap' scenes in one episode did feel slightly out-of-place. While some people who watch the series may also be fans of rap (myself included to a lesser extent), it is not what anyone is watching Love Live— of all things— for! My suspicion is that Sunrise was trying to birth some meme material out of the series, in the hopes that it may go viral on social media. The effect this might have had is unknown to me, however, as I try to abstain from migraine-inducing platforms like TikTok and its ilk...

One can only hope that Superstar will break free from the franchise's two-cour format, as there is so much more potential to be found in its characters. As well, the slower pacing, relative to other Love Live series, would lend itself perfectly to a three or even four-cour format. I'm also not entirely sure having a fifth Love Live series in a single decade would be the right move, as it can be emotionally-draining for fans to grow attached to a cast only to see them replaced by a new series every couple years. We shall see soon what Sunrise's plans for Superstar and the franchise as a whole are, once the second season flies us by.

Love Live has learned a lot from some of the mistakes it made during the Sunshine era. At this point, with its fourth outing, I believe the franchise has truly nailed just what it is that makes Love Live so damn special for so many people.

I can't make the claim that Superstar is some grand, ocean-deep story, but then it was never trying to be such in the first place. It is entertainment first and foremost, and in that regard, it excels in a way few anime can even dream to.

As someone who has found themselves struggling to watch modern anime, Love Live Superstar is a beacon of hope, a testament that joy trumps all.

In the early moments of Shirobako's latest film endeavor, one of the new characters lays witness to a discussion on the radio regarding the difficult state of the modern anime industry. Perhaps the anime bubble had burst, and buyers have long been dwindling away from the market? The song that follows is a fitting follow-up to these concerns, lamenting how there is little that can be done, save for embracing the reality and pushing onwards.

This stark contrast to other anime and manga, where said industries are celebrated and deified, presents a more sober and realistic take that is scarcely found elsewhere. Perhaps we have been ... seeing the decline of an industry for quite a while now, and have just failed to notice. An anime centered upon the anime industry holds more truths than is immediately apparent, as it is in some regards a vehicle for animators and writers to discuss their own experiences. If they do not say it directly, they can instead express it through creative mediums.

On the surface, Shirobako is just an ordinary moe anime, filled to the brim with cute girls creating anime, pushing themselves to the limit and doing the nigh-impossible. And on these merits alone, the Shirobako movie provides plenty more fun for those it appeals to, with the movie's storyline mostly reminiscent of that from the TV series. Personally, however, I find that moreso than plot or characters (which are serviceable in this case), this subtext is what gives the most credence to Shirobako as an artistic work.

If there is one criticism I might have, it is that the male characters are largely doofuses. This brings essential comedic value to the series, and consequently keeps things varied and exciting, but I do wish that some of them (namely Takanashi and Big Boy) had a few more layers to their personality. The antagonist of the movie is also another stock buffoon, a shady 'businessman' skirting the thin line between legality and crime (and failing at doing so, to incredible extents). But they are not the stars of the show, and they hardly hamper the integrity of the story or its enjoyment thereof, so it is largely a trivial issue.

If you can forgive a mildly degenerate digression, I do feel obliged to state that Erika is a hell of a girl (twintails, short shorts, AND thigh-highs, all at once?), with her remaining my favourite from the series. It is a shame there isn't more of her (I had initially thought she wouldn't even appear in the movie), as I feel she could have made for an exciting and more dominant member of the main cast.

But there is little to gripe about with regards to the main five. Shirobako had one of my favourite female casts in all of anime when it aired five plus years ago, and that remains the case even now in 2021. I could watch these characters for many more movies yet, and still be excited in what their individual story-arcs have yet to present, with their differing albeit interconnected careers. Still, it would have been nice if the movie wasn't so fixated on Aoi, as the rest of the main cast are treated with what seems more like cameo appearances, rather than anything meaningful or substantial— similar in many ways to Erika's disappointingly small role in the story. Those excited for more Ema or Midori, for example, might find themselves a bit disappointed, as their scenes feel quite wanting. Perhaps they have a couple minutes of screentime each, which in some cases, is less than characters we can barely even remember the name of.

It is of course difficult to manage such a large amount of characters in a two hour format, though, so I suppose it goes to reason that the writers would choose instead to tell a smaller and more focused story. And while said story can be mild and potentially even underwhelming on a surface level (the rush to meet deadlines is something we have already seen aplenty in the TV series), I feel it is the deeper meanings that elevate the Shirobako movie into being more than merely decent. If the staff have made an entire movie expressing the pinch that animators, writers, and the industry as a whole currently finds itself in, then I might argue that there is more information to extract here than even most news sources could possibly provide.

I have to admit, I was not expecting to be watching another Shirobako anime in 2021. But in recent days, we have been seeing a multitude of anime receiving sequels many years after their originals. And for this I am happy, and thankful, as it shows that some creators are willing to please their fans instead of perpetually chasing monetary phantoms.

If you've watched and enjoyed Shirobako in the past, you already know whether or not you should watch this movie. And for those who have no experience with the series, I can only hope that you might give it a try.

It is, in my opinion, one of the most enjoyable and meaningful anime from the previous decade.

There are few anime as equally enjoyable as they are remarkable. And there are fewer still as thoroughly pleasant as Sunrise's latest foray into the world of school idols.

Love Live: Nijigasaki is a wholesome reminder of why I enjoy anime, and of why the slice-of-life genre is so captivating.

Admittedly, after the middling and sometimes frustrating experience that was Sunshine, I wasn't too sure what to expect from this year's offering of Love Live. While I was a big fan of the original series (Nico is my favourite character in all of anime), Sunshine missed the mark in many regards. It forgot what made Love ... Live so special in the first place— charming characters and cute slice-of-life— and decided instead to replace it with unhappy vibes and drama in excess. Sunshine was always walking in the original's shadows, with abundant references to Muse, and of days gone by.

The great news is that, by bringing the series back to its roots, Nijigasaki firmly stands on its own two feet. It is comprised solely of the franchise's best elements, and highlights the reasons so many people fell in love with Love Live all those years ago. And, with a few important changes and some new layers of complexity, I believe that it is legitimately superior to the original. Love Live's third outing is its best yet.

A large part of what makes Nijigasaki such a pleasure to watch is that it doesn't take itself too seriously. The tone here is far more light-hearted and slice-of-life focused than previous, which is when Love Live had always shined the most, from my perspective. While there is still a degree of drama, it is used sparingly, and in a wholesome and heartwarming manner, with the conclusion to the conflict almost invariably resulting in a smile or even a big stupid grin. If you're the type of person who watches anime primarily for fun, I would say there are not many anime that do it better than Nijigasaki. If you're not so much a seeker of fun, and instead have a preference for the dark and violent and so forth... well, you've found yourself in the wrong place, I'm afraid.

I've always found it admirable how Love Live manages to develop large casts of characters in such a concise amount of episodes, and Nijigasaki is the best example of this to date. It bumps the size of the main cast from nine to ten, and rather than the characterization taking a hit as a result, to the contrary, it is actually an improvement over previous seasons. Each of the girls, no matter how boring or forgettable their design may initially suggest, receive at least one full episode developing their character in a meaningful way, giving ample reason for you to care about them. Contrast this with Sunshine, where I remember Saint Snow, the darn rival group, more than the actual main cast, and it is a world of difference in quality. Even the original series had some characters I felt were underdeveloped (Nozomi in particular), but such is scarcely the case here.

The best example of character development done right is with Rina's episode. Personally, and I am sure many felt the same way initially, her character design elicited a sigh and rolled eyes. Her face being covered by a computer monitor, complete with kaomoji and other electronic expressions, felt very much like an unabashed attempt to bank off on the V-Tuber craze of today. But Rina's episode actually creates a valid reason for her possessing this quirk. It makes sense in the context of the anime, and it genuinely makes you feel happy for her in how she has found a way to confront her fears. Without this episode, she would be another Yohane— one-note and defined by a single gimmick— but with it, she has earned her place as a (relatively) believable and dynamic character.

My personal favourites are Emma and Yuu. While there isn't anything too noteworthy going on with Emma as a character, she is adorable as all hell, as well as being from my favourite country (Switzerland). It is not often that westerners take the role of a main character in anime, and if they do, they are often either half-Japanese or a caricature with blonde hair and broken Japanese. But Emma is just a normal girl, treated no different than any of the other girls. This is laudable on Sunrise's part, as it demonstrates that they are more broad-minded and accepting of other cultures than most studios. It is the little details such as these which make the Nijigasaki girls so appealing.

Of course, with it now being the third full Love Live series, it does follow a formula that most fans have grown accustomed to. But where the first two series spent the majority of their first seasons merely building up and assembling the idol club, Nijigasaki is done with this in its first few episodes, and swiftly moves on to character development and other matters. The only aspect I wish were different was that, maybe, this time around, the girls could have all started together from the first year of high school. I always thought it was a shame that Love Live had to end after a single year of story, and would much prefer to see a full three years played out instead. This is especially true in the case of Nijigasaki, as the cast is so vibrant and exciting that the thought of it ending after two seasons (provided we are even lucky enough to get that far) just doesn't sit right. But, I suppose, it is always better to end on a high note than to risk meandering about.

There are considerably strong yuri themes within Nijigasaki. Unlike the other Love Live series, and most slice-of-life in general, it doesn't exist merely as a suggestion or as fanservice, but as something more sober and markedly human. One of the main characters is genuinely— that is, objectively—in love with one of the others. While this initially comes off as a bit of a shock when it is revealed, especially with it occurring so late into the season, it is handled in a surprisingly mature manner, and ends with a hell of an emotional closer. While my first thoughts were "Oh no..." when I realized things were going down the oft-trodden yuri path, the events of these two episodes earned my support, and this comes from someone who isn't even a fan of yuri. Sure, hell, I'll even cheer the two of them on, and hope that everything works out between them in the end.

This yuri romance also adds a new layer of complexity to the story. Though I was already enamored with the anime by this point, it went above and beyond, taking a large risk that could very well have sabotaged my enjoyment and appreciation of the anime. But it is a risk that paid off, and I am interested in seeing where this romantic substory arrives at in the second season. The events of these two episodes do steal the focus away from what was otherwise a very slice-of-life centric anime, however, which may not be to everyone's tastes. But as long as Nijigasaki balances the two, and doesn't let the romance overtake the slice-of-life, then I believe the two aspects can peacefully co-exist and compliment one another.

Love Live: Nijigasaki is a delightful and remarkable experience throughout. It is some of the most fun I have had watching an anime in... well, if not just a long time, then perhaps ever. If you enjoy slice-of-life anime to any extent, then, even if you have watched Love Live in the past but were irked for some reason or another, I would strongly urge you to give Nijigasaki a chance as it is a different beast entirely. This isn't just an anime for Love Live fans, or idol fans— it is a love letter to slice-of-life fans as a whole.

In a lot of ways, Nijigasaki feels like the successor to K-ON (complete with its own Azusa equivalent), to which I feel like Nijigasaki has firmly surpassed. Its slice-of-life moments are more fun. Its music is more charming. Its characters are more compelling. Hell, it even handles yuri better.

So where does that leave me, as someone whose favourite anime, for several years, was K-ON?

While the second season still remains an unknown entity, Love Live: Nijigasaki, in my opinion, is poised to be one of the most lovable slice-of-life anime in over a decade.

"Happiness is a way of travel, not a destination."

Fiction often tells us a similar tale: one of the hero saving the day, where happiness is a commodity given as a reward for good and just deeds. In the case of Majo no Tabitabi, which follows Elaina's solitary journey throughout the vast skies and endless seas, this rule of fiction is approached in a more skeptical manner. Good intentions may be rewarded, but it is not always so.

Unlike most anime, Majo no Tabitabi doesn't portray karma as an infallible law from which we can never escape. Sometimes the characters will strive to resolve an issue ... with good intentions, but as a consequence of following their heart, it can sometimes lead not to a problem being fixed, but a problem made worse. These themes can potentially be misconstrued by some viewers as the story being pretentious (among other disparaging terms), but Majo no Tabitabi does not claim that optimism or idealism is wrong, either. Karma and morality are treated as an open-ended question of which there is no inherently correct answer. It is situational and oftentimes a matter of luck, which is demonstrated by the various happy and unhappy conclusions to the episodes.

It's precisely this unpredictable pattern of storytelling which makes Majo no Tabitabi so enchanting. There are happy episodes that warm the soul, more slice-of-life in nature and which will make the viewer laugh and smile. There are darker episodes, which are less frequent, but which make you question the characters' actions as well as your own beliefs. And even in the quieter moments, where the story is meant to be approached more as entertainment, there are subtle themes that can be pursued by the viewer at their behest. What happens when a wall is erected in the middle of a small town, for example? While these themes are nothing exemplary on their own, they do complement the story on a wider scale by showing facets of Elaina's personality which are not otherwise explored in the more serious episodes. It is, after all, as much a story about Elaina herself as it is about the adventure. Travel is personal, and is inherently a story about the traveler.

Most likely, there will be some people who disagree with aspects of Elaina's worldview. And that is fine, as she is an observer and fervently avoids the role of hero. Unlike most anime protagonists, while Elaina is naturally a kind person, she will sometimes ignore the plights of others if it is not of personal benefit or interest to her. There are of course times where she will help the strangers of a country on a more selfless basis, but by and large, she calculates whether or not it is worth getting involved in a problem, just as the vast majority of people in our world do. After several years travelling from place to place, being embroiled in local issues that do not affect her personally, it is inevitable that at least some of her good intentions would have led to tragedy and less-than-happy outcomes. And so Elaina knows, and so she does not assume the helping hand will be met with a just reward. There is a big difference between someone like Elaina, who is experienced and hardened, and an anime character who is cynical and morally grey simply because it is perceived as cool to be so. I would even go as far as to say this is what separates Majo no Tabitabi, a surprisingly adult-oriented anime, apart from series like Oregairu and Re:Zero. Elaina may not possess the same innocence and happy-go-lucky nature as other characters in anime, but that is because she has traveled far and seen the world at large, and has thus not had the luxury of being trapped in a small social bubble, as so many are.

That is not to claim that Majo no Tabitabi's storytelling is without error, because it is not. There are a few aspects that I wish were better, particularly the conclusion of the 9th episode, which was excessive in a way the show hadn't really been up to that point. It's possible the anime staff tried to capture part of that Re:Zero audience, which, for a product seeking financial success, is unfortunate but expected. The themes and the plot of the episode were engaging and shocking in the right ways, but the visual direction had me almost feel as though I were watching a different anime entirely. But it is not as though the serious episodes all follow this same formulae, so the odd directorial shift for the one episode was given little more than a shrug from me.

Another issue some might find is that the pacing, particularly at the start, is lightning fast. Hearing "And so, six months later..." doesn't really allow the viewer to get all too attached to the events of the episode. I do appreciate that the story covers a large span of time (essentially 4+ years, and likely more in the light novels), and I even prefer this over more traditional slice-of-life, but trimming the timeskips down a tad would help to make the passage of time feel more natural and less abrupt. The presence of yuri elements towards the end - a frequent trope in slice-of-life series with predominantly female casts - was also a bit on the unnecessary side. That said, it is not pervasive, and is largely relegated to a single episode, which is fortunate as the series' strengths are not in romance and sudden... homoerotic proposals.

On a more technical level, Majo no Tabitabi is solid. While the animation is not something that will explode your mind and make you feel as if you were watching some massive-budget production, there is more effort here than the typical static visuals of most anime. In a lot of anime, it is essentially just a slideshow - panning over a single image for five or more seconds, with the only moving parts being the flapping of a character's lips. Majo no Tabitabi may occasionally fall victim to this shortcutting as well— there are weekly deadlines to be met, after all— but there is often more going on than the average anime, even if it is something as subtle as Elaina shrugging her shoulders while speaking. As well, the art style of Majo no Tabitabi is vibrant and lively, and the characters' facial expressions convey considerable emotion. They do not need to explicitly say 'I am angry' or 'I am sad' for you to understand what they are thinking and feeling. This may sound obvious, and something to be expected, but the sad truth is that most TV anime forget the importance of facial expressions and instead rely on voice acting talent to illustrate a scene. Majo no Tabitabi may be simple, but it excels in said simplicity.

It is also admirable how the anime staff honoured the creator's wishes to keep the anime adaptation free of sexual fanservice. I don't have any issues with sexual content in anime, and— to the contrary— view it as a positive when handled well. But moments involving pantyshots and things of that nature are juvenile and would do nothing but detract from Elaina's character. She is mentally and emotionally mature in a way that most female characters in anime aren't, and seeing her get embarrassed because she was caught changing clothes— or whatever else ecchi anime do these days— would diminish who she is as a person. The anime is confident enough in its own qualities that it does not need to add gratuitous sexual fluff. Leave that to the doujins and fan material, and keep letting Majo no Tabitabi be as it is, I say.

So, yeah. I liked Majo no Tabitabi. Quite a bit, too. A lot of people have drawn parallels between it and Kino no Tabi, and I would say that is quite appropriate. But where Kino no Tabi excelled in worldbuilding, I sometimes thought it fell short with regards to characterization. Majo no Tabitabi is the answer to that issue. While it may be more divisive than other anime of its genre, it comes as a solid recommendation to all varieties of anime fans. Anime like this are exceptionally, and increasingly rare in today's marketplace. If you haven't watched it yet, you're missing out on something special.

And if you're curious, I'll even go a step further: I think Majo no Tabitabi is the best anime of the year - and potentially more.

For someone whose all-time favourite anime is Touch, there's a strange feeling to be had watching a quasi-sequel an entire thirty plus years after Touch originally aired. A mixture of nostalgia and of heavy emotions, of how things were and how they are, of how we have changed but not changed much at all.

But throughout it all, the one emotion that lingered strongest was: "I wish I was watching Touch instead."

It's a story that has been done thrice before, with Mix now being Adachi Mitsuru's fourth at-bat with coming-of-age baseball dramas. The biggest difference here is that Mix isn't so much a personal story ... in the way that Touch and Cross Game were, but is an entirely sports-focused series in a similar vein to H2, albeit with heavy themes of family and nostalgia. Touch in particular was focused on themes of trauma, guilt, angst, loss, and love, of trying to prove yourself and trying to be someone who you are not. There are none of these things in Mix— not even a touch of romance— which makes the entire experience pretty mild unless an already prodigy-level pitcher aiming for first place at the Koushien is all you ever needed.

The matches are engaging in typical Adachi Mitsuru fashion, as they can be over in a split-second from the tiniest of mistakes, making it impossible to reliably predict who will win and who will lose. No team is invincible, and no player is infallible. The epic music crescendos with Touma's masterful pitches, each landing with a loud thud as the innings rack up and the stakes increase. One mistake, one poor pitch and Meisei could be immediately sent home with nothing but regret and a years-long wait until next summer's tournament. While the first half of Mix is largely slice-of-life and an introduction to the characters, the second half is extremely tense and devoted to Meisei's run at the summer tournament.

As a sports anime, Mix is great. But with only twenty-four episodes devoted to a still-ongoing manga, with enough chapters to already cover several seasons worth of similarly paced content, to have things end as prematurely as they do makes the anime feel like lost potential. "Really... that's it? No sequel announcement? This is how we're ending?", I thought, as my video player reached the end of the final episode's credits. Adachi Mitsuru's anime adaptations— namely Touch and Cross Game— are notable in how they actually portrayed the entire story despite the length of their manga source material. Touch told a full story, from beginning to end. So did Cross Game. But Mix, unless things are to change, has only told about 10% of the entire story, hoping anime viewers will be OK with an ending that doesn't conclude anything or make the viewer feel at all happy with where things are leaving off. It's like a manga that was gutted and canceled with two week's notice— it simply isn't an ending.

But I guess that is the fate of anime produced in 2019. The days of fifty, a hundred episodes airing weekly is behind us, with three different seasons produced over an entire decade being the best one could hope for. Most of the time anime adaptations will simply end after the thirteen episodes and remain incomplete stories. It's a shame Mix was produced in 2019 instead of a decade ago when longer stories still had a fighting chance. Because, you know, Touch never even showed its true colors until twenty-five episodes had passed. Maybe there is more here as the story progresses, and maybe, just maybe, had it been a full adaptation, it could have had the potential to match or even surpass Touch.

I enjoyed Mix. I enjoyed returning to a peaceful setting painted by Adachi Mitsuru, and hearing all the silly fourth-wall-breaking gags the characters prod the viewer with. The summer tournament in the latter half was climactic and exciting. But every time the show would reference Touch, with Touma pitching next to Tatsuya - his splitting image - I would feel a desire to simply return to Touch instead, much, I suppose, as Touma's coach is haunted by nostalgia, unable to let go of his memories at Meisei thirty years past.

So I write this review, six years after I wrote my Touch review, with manga volumes of Touch and Cross Game still standing next to my computer desk. Obviously I haven't let go just yet, but that doesn't mean I didn't give Mix a fair shot, either. I just don't think it did it best.

It's a heck of a lot better than the second season, but that ain't saying too much.

As someone who still holds the original Love Live in somewhat high regard, Sunshine was quite frustrating to watch. The first season was decent, OK, but left a lot to be concerned about regarding its future. And sure enough, every single concern I had was present in the second season, with a few extra frustrations tossed in for maximum joy. The drama was overblown, so cloying, so far up its own arse that it thought minivans flying into the moon is apparently what idol fans were clamoring for. The ... characters remained one-dimensional caricatures with minimal growth, save for perhaps Ruby's and Ria's involvement with one another, which was probably the season's one saving grace. So, yeah, a bit disappointed I was, perhaps one might say.

And so comes the movie, Over the Rainbow, bringing the series back somewhat to its roots, serving as a reminder of what Sunshine should have been in the first place.

Though there is plenty of drama here as per Sunshine routine, this time around it serves more as a companion to the quieter, sillier moments and the characters' interactions with one another. Because they no longer have to spend every waking second freaking out about their school potentially shutting down, the girls of Aquors are free to finally do their own thing and focus on their own future rather than that of the school's. What will happen to Aquors now that the third years are graduating and leaving the group? Is it worth continuing Aquors without the full nine present? Can Rea move forward on her own now that her partner and role model has graduated from Saint Snow? These questions are far more compelling, far more human than something as artificial as "well, the school might be shutting down, so I guess we have to be as popular as we can or whatever and scream about shining every ten seconds or so."

The result is that the drama hits, because it actually matters this time around. Though Over the Rainbow is still a bit too heavy for its own good (this is an anime about high school pop idols, after all...), the conclusions the characters come to feel like the natural destination for their story, and the bittersweet ending— the final concert in particular— carries a tinge of emotional weight similar to that of the original Love Live's ending. If you are easily moved, perhaps you might be on the verge of a tear or two, but in my case it was just too late to feel all that much.

The musical performances (and I do mean 'musical' musical, a la Grease or La La Land) are undoubtedly the high point of the movie; notably, the opening sequence near the train station, the girls gradually introducing themselves and speaking to the audience through lyric, was very cleverly choreographed and a catchy little song in itself. The animation is more of a mixed bag, as even with movie treatment the dances are mostly comprised of artificial-looking CG, not all too different from any typical episode of the TV series. The way the camera quickly zooms in and pans around is a lot more enthralling, however, and some of the stills and background shots (especially of the Italian cityscape) are stunning and on par with some of the best the industry has seen. But I guess Love Live has always been pretty palatable to the senses, hey?

So, if, like me, you were critical of Sunshine but enjoyed the original series, Over The Rainbow ain't too bad. It feels closer to the original, better balancing the drama with the comedy and focusing more on what the viewers want— music and girls— rather than trying to wax philosophical and change your life through the sheer force of melodrama.

If ever there is a third Love Live anime series, I'd like to see them do something slightly different. We've done this story twice now, identical format and all, so I can't really imagine a third time around would get people all that excited. Why not have all the girls start as first years together, so the story can run for longer instead of being reset every time a couple of the seniors inevitably graduate. Things could even continue beyond high school as they would all still be together. Heck, while we're at it, you could also lower the cast from nine down to five or six so that they all have more screen time and can get more fleshed-out. Just my ten cents.

But if the upcoming All Stars mobile game is any indication, the next iteration of Love Live characters look to be more of the same.

Not that it matters, I suppose, because I will play it, and I will enjoy it solely because there is Nico.

Tate no Yuusha is a thundering disappointment for many fans of the isekai genre. And for those who would not have labeled themselves as such, Tate no Yuusha is a testament to their dislike or indifference, being yet another mediocre, soulless title lurching and tossing throughout a tired genre that is swiftly approaching its death throes. In truth, Tate no Yuusha doesn't please much of anybody.

If there is a reason Tate no Yuusha ever stood out in the first place, it is because of the protagonist and the appalling situation he is soon forced into. Though isekai anime taking a turn for the dark ... are hardly rare, the abject betrayal Naofumi faces is not the treatment one would expect for someone abducted from their world and supposedly re-branded a "hero". The corrupt, contemptible society he is forced to fight for is not what you might anticipate from a genre where the setting— the fantasy— is meant to be an escape from the monotony of the real world. Instead, it turns out things in Naofumi's new world may actually be far worse than they ever were in his old one. A fantasy turned nightmare.

The whole 'twist', I suppose— if you could call it that— was a success in the eyes of many. It turned another forgettable, run-of-the-mill anime into something a bit more engaging, and gave many a reason for the viewer to empathise with Naofumi, through joining in his hatred for society and his potential quest for revenge. Whether these themes were ever fully realised, or even handled well, may well be a different story entirely.

See, Tate no Yuusha never actually takes things further than 'corruption sucks' and 'I'm mad— grr, watch my flames of anger.' The king is inherently evil because of a small grudge. Myne is verminous scum merely because... wait, there is no actual reason. Motoyasu, the spear hero, is a gullible idiot who likes to womanise and that is all there is behind his punch-able little face. Raphtalia is a benevolent mary sue who will not utter or even think a bad thought, her almost immediately (and incomprehensibly) falling in love with Naofumi, thus existing as waifu material for those who like to rescue their damsels from distress. Filo is pure fodder for lolicons and a relentless annoyance for anyone who is not. The list goes on. The only one who still has potential is the Queen, but considering the path the show has trodden thus far, it would be illogical to assume a second season would fare her any better. Tate no Yuusha's characters, though they may initially show promise, are quickly cast aside and made merely to be fanservice or vehicles to drive Naofumi's hatred along, however the writer's whims may fancy.

Oh, you wanted to see the anime tackle issues surrounding the slave trade, and Naofumi's moral dilemma of having taken part in an evil system yet saved someone as a direct result of it? Sorry - I have disappointing news. Did you want to see the politics, heck, even geography of the world explored with more than two lines of dialogue? Nope. Not here. Everything in Tate no Yuusha is surface level. It has the facade of maturity, but in reality is about as mature as a 1999 Slipknot album.

Any fight scene, no matter how overwhelming and powerful the opponent, can, and will, be prematurely ended by Naofumi's anger turning him Super Saiyan. Whereas anime like JoJo will carefully construct the fights to be based on tactics and cleverness, Tate no Yuusha presents nothing except power levels. You can fast-forward through any climactic fight scene and have lost little to nothing of value, as all you ever need to know is that Naofumi got angry and won. Sure, there is a degree of self-awareness throughout the show, with characters remarking on how this power is essentially him "cheating". But when Naofumi attributes all his success to hard work and yet wins merely because of said mysterious power randomly appearing at the most convenient time— essentially a deus ex machina— you have to wonder what the hell he is even talking about.

If all you ever wanted to see was Naofumi take revenge against those who wronged him, then, I am sorry to say, but even that will lead you to much disappointment. On numerous occasions, when he is on the cusp of enacting his long-sought revenge, he takes the high road and proselytizes about how killing a bad person makes you just as bad as them, or whatever— the usual tripe you hear from lame, holier-than-thou anime protagonists. Since when was Naofumi ever supposed to be an idealistic person? Hadn't he lost all his faith in society, or even in morality itself after what he had experienced? Not only does this betray fans of the first several episodes, but it makes his character an inconsistent and incomprehensible mess. He plays hero when it is supposed to sound cool, and villain when it is convenient for him. By the time there actually is some sort of retribution for those who wronged him, it is too little too late, a thumbs-up, an "okay, cool" rather than anything deserving of applause. Tate no Yuusha surely and steadily loses its steam as the episodes blindly trudge by, and once its primary theme is lazily cast aside, there is no reason to care about what happens to a world where saving the day and being a 'hero' never even meant anything in the first place.

So there you go. Another trite isekai anime, popular mostly for its gimmicky nature, masquerading itself as mature merely because it has themes that are darker than is usual. Those who aren't fans of the genre will most likely have trusted their instincts and avoided this show, anyway, but for those who sit on the fence, and even for those who generally enjoy these sorts of shows, there is not much to be gained from Tate no Yuusha's feckless affairs. It makes me miss the flawed but ambitious Re:Zero, and Re:Zero is not an anime I had really imagined myself missing all that much.

And now I'm all out of words because I realise the next one of these— Arifureta— is down the corner, just a week's time away, with a premise that is almost word-for-word copy-paste of what is found in Tate no Yuusha.

It just doesn't end.

"It's cold. Cold things suck. Let's play in the snow."

There's your one-hour Memory Snow experience condensed into a few seconds. Those expecting the series' trademark gore, or any character development or backstory will find themselves considerably disappointed by Subaru and co.'s snow frolicking adventures. Nay, instead we have slice-of-life and comedy, because that's what everyone likes Re:Zero for, right?

I've had a lot of time to think and chat about the series in the three years since I wrote my original Re:Zero review. Though I was immensely critical at the time, there was something about the series that prevailed, that made it hard for me ... to forget or stop thinking about. Re:Zero's portrayal of trauma is likely what stuck with me the most, as only a few other anime (Steins;Gate, to name a prominent one) have dealt with that sort of subject matter in a meaningful way. So, I guess, when you take all of that out-- y'know, everything that made the series interesting-- and have it all smiles and sunshine instead, you're left with this... Memory Snow.

Let me get one thing out of the way: Re:Zero's 'comedy' is not funny. At all. Nope. I cannot imagine a scenario where anyone, even the most zealous and devoted fans of the series, are laughing at one of Memory Snow's gags. A guy is making passes at Subaru and pretending to be gay? Gold. Oh my god, Subaru is speaking in (bad) English at the beginning instead of in Japanese? Absolutely H-Y-S-T-E-R-I-C-A-L! (LOL)

Japan, speaking generally, is a pretty straight-faced country that does not really understand a whole lot about humour, and while light novel adaptations have always been especially culpable, boy, oh boy, does Re:Zero's jokes feel forced. It's as if someone who has not ever told a joke in their life read a 'how to slapstick' manual and thought it okay to just emulate the same two examples ad infinitum. Overreacting, retorting with a stupid voice-- all focused on the characters delivering the comedy, without there actually being any comedy. It is painfully clear that the people working on the series are there because they want to tell a serious story, and the comedy and light novel tropes are manufactured merely to be more palatable to an audience who don't know anything else. Oh, and Rem and Emilia are apparently everybody's waifu, or something.

Memory Snow, in between its painful attempts at comedy, exists mostly to appease fans of the heroines. Emilia, Rem and Ram get drunk and clingy towards Subaru, and fans can take great joy imagining themselves in Subaru's shoes. If not, well, Memory Snow is not something you should spend an hour of your life enduring. Why did I? Good question.

Re:Zero, for as many issues as it had, was at least ambitious and entertaining. It swung hard, missing more than it should have, but there was enough value in there to warrant a recommendation. The second season is something I am quite interested in watching-- more than I ever thought I'd be, three years ago. So until then, we shall wait. And maybe I won't have forgotten about Memory Snow by then.

Ah, who am I kidding.

For most of the western world today, tolerance towards homosexuality is almost unquestionable, with gay marriage being written into law with nary a controversy. But for Japan, a country that has traditionally isolated itself from the rest of the globe, attitudes towards homosexuality are noticeably different. Though a 2017 NHK poll indicates that a majority of Japanese people are supportive of gay marriage, two years later even civil partnerships remain non-existent, and people remain heavily closeted in fear of standing out in a fiercely homogeneous culture.

It is important to keep this in mind while reading Shimanami no Tasogare. Those familiar with anime, manga, or ... Japanese media as a whole will be well aware that homosexuality is almost entirely ignored, or, if homosexual characters do exist, they are treated as a one-note running-gag-- tee-he, this character is gay/lesbian: so funny. Even Japanese television, which attempts to manufacture a vaguely tolerant image towards LGBT people by having a small handful of transgender hosts on variety shows, treats said hosts almost exclusively as comedy material. Matsuko Deluxe, most famously, for example-- most Japanese people would believe her cross-dressing and usage of female language to be a part of her character, a part of the joke rather than her actual identity. The general attitude towards LGBT people, among the younger Japanese populace, is to act tolerant on the outside, while shutting them out inside and avoiding their company so as to not stick out. For older Japanese people, outright discrimination is as ordinary to them as their hostility towards foreigners. And for children and teenagers, it is of course a reason to bully.

Shimanami no Tasogare is a statement about the reality of LGBT people in Japan. It is a touching and personal story about a wide array of people finding, and coming to terms with who they are, but it is equally the question of why these same people aren't allowed to behave themselves on the outside. Why must they stay closeted? Why can't people be free to love who they choose? They simply wish to live their life in peace without being harassed. Doesn't everyone?

The story begins with the protagonist being driven to the brink of suicide for being potentially ousted as gay by his classmates. He chooses instead to live, and eventually finds company among a volunteer group comprised of other gay people, of lesbians, cross-dressers, transgender and closeted/confused people. Nobody in this group is hostile towards society for not accepting them: they are content merely having found a space where they can make friends and be accepted for who they are. But even this is put into jeopardy by society, with regular and targeted harassment towards the group throughout the series. Sadly, such things had already been a daily occurrence in their lives before they had even joined the group. A shrug and a step forward is their only recourse.

Shimanami no Tasogare's writing is considerably subtle. There is a transgender character whose identity is never outright stated for the majority of the series, but by the time the dialogue explicitly reveals what they are, the reader has already known for quite some time due to their bittersweet conversations with old friends, hinting and nudging towards their past. There is as well a cross-dresser, though whether they truly fit somewhere in the LGBT spectrum, or are merely a puberty-stricken child fascinated by beauty, remains unanswered. It is not of much relevance. In the protagonist's own words, he wants "to live in a world where we don't have to understand each other." And that's quite fair enough.

There is some touching romance throughout the story-- particularly between the protagonist and another boy at school whom he has a crush on-- but this plays a secondary role to the two coming to terms with and accepting who they are, or even who they might be. There isn't necessarily an "and so they got together" ending, as whether or not they do was never really the point of the story. Much can instead be inferred from the manga's often symbolic imagery, with the art, stylistically simple as it may be, both figuratively and literally gouging at the characters with their fears and unrequited loves.

As somebody who is straight and even engaged to someone of the opposite sex, Shimanami no Tasogare comes recommended without reservation, a touching and courageous story despite its brevity. It is not just a story for LGBT readers to relate to, but for anyone who has ever felt alienated, or can empathise with those that have.

Because why should anyone ever be bullied for loving another?

They shouldn't.

Until the final moments of the second episode, it is extremely unclear what Zaregoto is supposed to be about, or even what it wants to be about.

Little of significance happens during this time: character introductions interspersed with surreal 'SHAFT-ness' (this should be coined as a word if it hasn't already) and philosophical discussions about the meaning of life and why the protagonist is apparently such a big fat loser. Cool, so everyone is a weirdo, and the setting makes no sense, but why are we supposed to care, again? I expect most people who are not already fans of Nisio Isin or SHAFT anime ... will lose interest somewhere during this time and potentially drop the series altogether.

Which would be a mistake, because the third to eighth episodes are an absolute joy to watch, and constitute some of the best content SHAFT has produced in years.

Zaregoto (Kubikiri Cycle) is, rather, a murder-mystery anime, which those familiar with the Danganronpa series will find quite similar. The unnamed protagonist, trapped on a solitary island with a dozen others, must wrack his brain to solve a bizarre string of seemingly impossible murders. The natural response would be to call the authorities and let the professionals do their job, but circumstances prevent the police from being called to the island. And so begins a traditional battle of logic: the construction of alibis, theories to be argued out, and proof to be sought— and sought desperately.

Those well-versed in the mystery genre will find it relatively easy to work out the culprit's identity via the clues left behind, but the actual process through which the murders are committed, and especially the culprit's motives, are a bit harder to predict, if largely because they contain elements that would be implausible in an actual real-life incident. So, if being surprised by absurd events is more entertaining to you than an ordinary, realistic murder case, you will be in for a fun little ride. And conversely, those seeking something plausible will be a bit more exasperated. But I am not sure you would be coming to a SHAFT anime in the first place if you were expecting realism. I mean, hell, in the final episode, with 200 cars exploding into an atomic-bomb sized ball of fire, directly behind the characters during their peaceful car drive, with them not so much as even acknowledging it (what?), it became clear to me that this show ain't based in our universe. The SHAFT universe is indeed a strange one.

If surreal artwork and mystery was all Zaregoto had going on, perhaps it would merely be an average, albeit fun series. The debates between the characters at the round-table aren't particularly compelling, with the protagonist and his opponents simply going through the motions of a mystery story: a theory and an inevitable rebuttal. Compared to the Danganronpa games, which made things much more complex and interesting by means of characters speaking in red herrings and complete untruths (even when they are innocent and have nothing to be gained from lying), in Zaregoto's case, there just isn't a whole lot to applaud.

So it's a good thing there is more to Zaregoto than mystery. The frequent philosophical discussions between the protagonist and his opponents, characteristic of Nisio Isin's catalogue, make even the moments where the story is at a standstill a pleasure to watch and listen to. There are a couple scenes that veer towards preachy or even arrogant territory ("this is my, Nisio Isin's, way of thinking, and other perspectives on life do not and cannot exist"), and a scene involving one of the maids uttering the most disparaging comments that could possibly be uttered to another human being (ending in them, literally, no joke, telling the protagonist he should kill himself), when said maid has only known the protagonist for a grand total of three effin' days, was quite... nay, extremely uncomfortable to watch. But by and large, the philosophical discussions in Zaregoto add an extra bit of flair, a more cerebral quality that many anime lack, even if the themes of these discussions aren't necessarily new or profound.

With a dozen characters and only eight episodes (and constituting only the beginning of a much larger light novel series), naturally, the characters are developed to wildly varying extents, with some being relegated to the sidelines and existing as little more than one or two-note tropes. The cook, Yayoi, is particularly guilty of this, being some incredible genius in the kitchen and capable of differentiating hundreds of thousands of tastes (how the heck do you even count that in the first place?), yet we see nothing of her cooking or her character besides her blowing her gasket at one point before withdrawing to the shadows again. Maki, defined largely by her love for wine and her verbal abusing the protagonist, is perhaps the most mature and intriguing member of the cast, which makes it a shame how little was seen of her. Instead, we get to see Tomo a million times... cute she is— especially in her twintail incarnation— but 'cute shut-in savant girl' is a trope I've seen seen more times in anime than I want to. The unnamed protagonist— or Ii-chan, I guess we could call him as Tomo does— is unsurprisingly the one with the most depth, a sort of darkness, a depressive nature hidden inside him that is teased but little revealed throughout the series. Mature and logical, he stands his ground in arguments, keeping his emotions tucked away inside himself. Though I wouldn't go as far as to claim him 'fun' or 'likeable', he's completely inoffensive and is one of the more compelling protagonists anime's mystery genre has birthed.

Yes, Zaregoto looks, sounds, and feels like a typical SHAFT anime, a visual cross between Madoka and the Monogatari series. Surreal artwork, embracing style over realism, is ever-present, particularly in the final episode which is SHAFT cranked up to eleven and completely and entirely visually incomprehensible. The surreal artwork coheres with the story, considering the ridiculous supernatural skills most of the characters possess, but at times the artistic and sound design becomes overbearing. No, the characters do not need to do the trademark SHAFT head-tilt, and no, we don't need the protagonist's inner monologues sounding like he is talking in the bathroom of some abandoned house. It's as if SHAFT is incapable of letting go, of letting the story take the lead and the artwork being complimentary, as it should in Zaregoto's case. There's an almost arrogant nature here, and, honestly, after over a decade of the same thing, it's about time the studio experiments with a new artistic style. But, yes, look and sound pretty Zaregoto does, especially with its background music and tight transitioning between opening sequence and story.

Zaregoto is a thoroughly enjoyable, if unfortunately brief experience. It is also obscure: obscure in the sense that mainstream audiences— those who are not active fans of Nisio Isin or SHAFT— will not be aware of its existence. It is, after all, an OVA series. It didn't air on TV. It is an adaptation of a series already fifteen years old. It went straight to disc, the only choice being to buy it or not. In Japan, where streaming services and illegal downloading aren't half as much a thing as they are in the west, this has made Zaregoto completely and utterly impenetrable to newcomers.

And that's unfortunate, because Zaregoto deserves to be watched.