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For better and for worse, this is the quintessential sports anime. It takes everything that’s compelling and interesting, and also cliché and cheesy, of the genre and puts it on full display. Haikyuu‼ is a series a very much enjoyed, and I can recommend it because I bet that anyone who likes the genre would enjoy it as well. But despite my enjoyment of the series, I can recognize this is nothing special and is plagued by banal tropes and incredibly lackluster writing.

I guess since this anime is nothing special, my review will be nothing special either and I won’t ... go beyond the format of just reviewing the aspects of this anime one by one. Let’s start with the areas where this series is simultaneously strong and lackluster: the art direction. The animation itself is fluid, interesting, and adequate. The character designs in particular are very strong. There are moments where character designs are slipshod or where background sets are given undue detail, but it gets the job done.

It’s the directing decisions that were far more mixed in quality. There were moments where the art direction were so damn provocative, misdirecting the audience’s attention to some detail to just play up the surprise of a play that did not go as expected, or subtlety hinting at some detail to change the mood of a scene to help the audience anticipate. This way the direction subtly plays with the audience’s expectations at key, action-packed moments of the matches was definitely the strongest feature of this anime, both leading to what made it enjoyable and as an artistic achievement in its own right.

Yet there are other art direction decisions of this series that were just, bad. Just plain, medicore cliché-shounen-garbage bad. Scenes that drag out for way too long with unsubtle motifs reintroduced at pivotal moments for dramatic effect that just come off as cheesy and overdramatic. Comedic sequences that are played up far too dramatically to the point that they lose their effect, over dramatic power scenes of hits, replaying impactful moments one too many times, and too many damn unsubtle flashbacks. All the tropes of bad directing that make sports anime, and mediocre shounen more generally, feel cringy and over-the-top are on display here, mixed in about evenly with moments that play with your expectations in more interesting ways.

Similar things could be said for the plot overall. Overall, it is definitely a bit predictable at the high-level, for example you usually knew who would win a match and how characters would change and develop—even if the details can be surprising at times. It’s the standard sports anime trope of protagonists who fail in various ways throughout middle school and need to face their demons/settle old scores/find inspiration from each other through high school. It’s got the clichés of an underdog-upstart program facing much tougher opponents, trying and failing at various points, training camp montages, facing down old rivals, a recalcitrant, slightly-washed up coach who decides to join out of pure passion, the whole nine yards of sports anime—and sports media generally—clichés in terms of plot.
But these clichés are clichés for a reason, they work, and that’s no different here. While this series will get no points for the originality of its plot, it does get some points for executing it and pacing it quite well. There are moments where they drag on dramatic matches far too long near the end, but overall it was quite well paced. Even when you could predict exactly what would happen, it would some how execute it in a more or less interesting way. I also really like that the first season ended on a relatively somber note as well, to build up anticipation for what’s to come and make it feel more realistic.

I would say the same about all the characters: unoriginal, yet effective. I’ll spare you going through all of them, but you’ve got your MC who is an exuberant prodigy with natural ability but lacks the stereotypical features of someone who’s good at the sport yet overcomes that talent through pure hard work, over-the-top exuberance, and determination. The secondary MC who has nothing but pure talent, but is a hot head and needs to learn to respect his teammates. The aforementioned slightly washed-up coach. The natural leader upperclassman who lacks talent but makes up for it with good strategy. The overly talented and obnoxiously popular antagonist who serves as pretty much a perfect foil for one of the secondary characters. The comedic relief character who is middling in talent, super “bro-y,” and keeps making jokes about how he wants a girlfriend. I could go on and on, you’ve seen all these characters before. I saw another reviewer describe the cast as "Naruto, but with volleyball," and that is accurate. One unusually weak area for this anime, though, were female characters who were mostly filler who were just there for boys to cringily swoon over.

However, just like the plot, it works. The characters are cliché, but the solid design and adequate voice acting still makes them compelling. They are also dynamic and fleshed-out with all their back stories. It is commendable that a series with this many characters developed them all so well without running into pacing issues like other sports anime (ahem, Yuri on Ice) run into. They suffer from predictability in how they develop, but at least they do develop and there is still that sense of satisfaction from watching them change and grow as they get to know each other.

As for the sound, it’s fine, but forgettable. There are moments where the voice acting gets extremely over-the-top, but that is as much the fault of the writer as the sound direction and actors. The voice acting, overall is adequate, the soundtrack is completely forgettable and kind of stale. The first OP was quite good, but all the other OP and EDs were completely forgettable. The best I can say for the soundtrack and acting is it did nothing to detract from the series, but it did not do much to enhance it either.

Then there's the writing of dialogue which is, and I won't sugarcoat it, laughably terrible sometimes. Reintroducing a couple really stale, cheesy, on-the-nose cliche truisms about the importance of teamwork and frienship whenever anyone is feeling uncertain. Horrid "I will beat you" cliche chest-beating anytime they want to build up a rivalry. Very cringy weeb humor about awkward guys falling over girls, or recurring gags about characters being too angry/clumsy/awkward. Emotional moments that are just bland repetitions of themes explored before. Often times, thought dialogue that carries on for far too long pointing out the obvious. Honestly, the dialogue of this series was painful to listen to sometimes with how cliche, unsubtle, and downright stupid it was even by shounen/sports anime standards.

Even though it does not sound like it from the ambivalent tone and relatively low score of this review, I really did enjoy Haikyuu‼ What it lacks in originality and artistic merit, it makes up for in actually being a compelling, if not realistic, portrayal of the sport of volleyball itself. The execution of some of the actual volleyball scenes was quite provocative, and I found myself—as embarrassing as it is to say—getting into it almost like I was watching a real volleyball match.

I guess that is what made this series as successful as it was, it succeeded as a *sports* anime more so than an anime generally. It integrated strategy well into the plot, even though the dialogue sometimes ruined it by overexplaining things. While the characters were kind of bland on their own, it was almost more interesting watching them play to each other’s relative strengths and weaknesses in terms of strategy in a volleyball match than to get to know them personally. It was more like watching a sporting event in real life; you do not really know or care who the players are, but you pay attention because you care about how they play the sport. And I suppose it deserves credit for that. Among many weaker sports anime, the sport itself feels kind of like a lame after-thought, a kind of weak proxy for telling the story at best (as in Ahiru no Sora) or filler-style distraction from the more interesting plot or characters at worst (as in Free!). At least this series was actually a good, compelling, though slightly overexplained, portrayal of the drama and intrigue of the sport itself. Which, as I’m watching this during a coronavirus pandemic when all my favorite sports (let’s face it, mostly hockey) have been canceled, I guess is exactly what I needed at this point.

Sometimes, a series does not need to have the best characters or plot on the face of the earth to be enjoyable. Sometimes, a good sports anime can just be a good portrayal of sports while failing to be much of a good story outright. That is all Haiyukku‼ was. While at times it feels like it took itself too seriously while trying to be more and it won’t exactly earn itself status as a total classic or favorite in my eyes, there is absolutely nothing wrong with that.

Story: 5/10
Art: 5/10
Sound: 5/10
Character: 6/10
Enjoyment: 7/10
Overall: 5/10

Tenki no Ko is not at all what I expected it would be. I will preface this by saying that since 5 Centimeters Per Second (2007), Shinkai has been among my favorite directors, and is probably my favorite director at this moment. I understand the criticisms of him as a director: he typically delivers all-to-convenient plots with somewhat static characters and plays with the same themes of distance and lost love too often. However, the execution and directing style always more than makes up for those shortcomings. Especially before Kimi no Na Wa, he always has had a contemplative, subtle approach with repeated motifs that ... begin as pretty scenery and slowly turn into emotional gut-punches. Further, he always explores those themes and similar stories in very subtle, fascinating ways that evoke another psychological dynamics of these common human experiences that seems to fly over the heads of his harshest critics. It’s largely similar to the way a good philosopher will often spend years writing about the same issues, but always with a slightly different angle, application, or approach. As a result, I cannot help but get lost in the subtle artistry and photorealistic beauty of almost every one of his films and tear up almost every time I watch them.

When I saw the reviews Tenki no Ko as largely being criticized for being just living in the shadow of Shinkai’s highly successful Kimi no Na Wa (2016), I was expecting this to happen all over again. I was expecting an extremely similar, extremely emotional story with either a nostalgic, heart-warming or darkly tragic ending probably. I wasn’t expecting particularly memorable, personable characters. I was expecting it to largely focus on interpersonal and subpersonal struggles with tough relationship, with mystical elements only added to vividly and poetically touch on those themes. As is usual, I expected surreally realistic backdrops, stunningly executed transition shots, and deeply engaging visual motifs. I was excited because every time I go on this ride with Shinkai I enjoy it. When I heard interviews with Shinkai where he mentioned climate change as an inspiration, I expected it to play a minor back-seat role in the plot, but not necessarily be a major theme.

That description certainly does not describe Tenki no Ko. While I would not say it is Shinkai’s best movie, it most certainly is his most interesting and unique movie. It is unique in the sense that it is perhaps the most different from the rest of his work, save perhaps the very underrated Children who Chase Lost Voices (2011). It is also unique in the sense that it is very different from most anime films I’ve ever seen. Sure, it features some superficial similarities to Kimi no Na Wa: a light-hearted exposition that builds a relationship, with an intense ending that challenges it. It also has all the features of Shinkai’s distinct animation style: gorgeous three-dimensional panoramic shots, subtle visual motifs, repeated scenes, and astounding photorealistic backgrounds and transition shots. Hell, even the main characters from Your Name make a cameo. But the similarities essentially stop there.

While almost all of Shinkai’s other works focus on subpersonal and interpersonal themes of loss, nostalgia, hopelessness, fear, long-distance relationships, and recovery. Tenki no Ko dabbles with them, but its focus is far more self-consciously political. While most of Shinkai’s earlier works focus on emotional engagement, Tenki no Ko is probably the least emotionally-charged of his films. What it lacks in feels, though, it more than makes up for in intellectual engagement.

It is largely an allegory for the tough decisions human beings face in relation to climate change made especially vivid through the tribulations of youthful love. It is not as if environmental themes have never been taken up in anime films before, the work of Miyazaki and Takahata come to mind with films like Pom Poko, Naussicaa, and Princess Mononoke. But while those Ghibli works focus more on the mystical side and promote a sort of pessimistic deep ecology, Shinkai focuses on the social implications of environmentalism and evokes a sense of optimistic humanism.

The essential plot revolves around Hina, a girl with the capacity to control the weather and Hadoka, a teenage runaway (presumably from Okinawa) who bumps into her at a McDonald’s while homeless. However, her power has brought calamity upon Tokyo in the form of ever-present rain. She can assuage the rains, but at the expense of her existence. Thus Hodoka, our protagonist faces an existentially terrifying choice: lose the love of his life, or sacrifice the well-being of others to the angry Gods of weather. The allegory to the existentially terrifying choice humans, especially developing economies must face with respect to climate changes quite clear: give up the technologies that have improved the lives of billions, or sacrifice the whole planet.

I will not spoil which he chooses but suffice to say many might be upset with its rosy depiction of the climate crisis. It offers some lines of hope that many might think are unwarranted. This is fair, but I think it largely misses the point. This film should not be viewed so much as offering a prognosis on how to deal with the crisis, as offering a very vivid depiction of its difficulty that often gets underappreciated: owning up to the magnitude of the problem will involve giving up not just material things, but ways of being that are near and dear to modern people.

It further engages in other self-consciously political acts. It shows the violent effects of a monopolistic surveillance state with aggressive police far more critically than I’ve come to expect from the genre of romance anime. It has rather vivid depictions of poverty and homelessness. It even engages in some reflection on the effects of markets on our society and relationships, for both better and worse. After all, Hodoka’s and Hina’s relationship starts with a market transaction of starting an entrepreneurial enterprise.

In other respects, this was a far more complete film than many of Shinkai’s previous works. The characters were far more fleshed out to the point of feeling more like a complete cast than usual. Side characters, like Nagi and Natsumi, are given backstories that are completely accidental to the main plot, yet just flesh out the world and make the relationships more believable. There is far more personality, humor, and realism to character interactions and discussion than most films in the genre attain.

In keeping with the much-improved characters, perhaps the most notable improvement to Shinkai’s directing has been his improvement in character designs. They look fluid, far more expressive, and more emphasis is given to facial expression than Shinkai’s usual bit of visual motifs. This is not to say motifs were lacking: the most obvious was rain, but others included umbrellas, Shinto symbols, food wrappers, cars, and returning motifs like the sky and trains. All these were communicated in Shinkai’s signature expressive, realistic, and engaging style. The artistry that went into producing the level of detail in this film is, as can be expected, truly magnificent. One particular repeated shot of light refracting through raindrops on a clear umbrella really hammers home what a visually stunning work this film is. It is even stunning by Shinkai’s standards, and if you know anything about his work you will know that is saying something. The new staff at CoMix truly deserves a ton of credit for refining Shinkai’s style into such a transcendent experience.

The film is not without its flaws, though. For one, the plot does have a few less-than-believable leaps, such as one too many chance meeting with familiar characters that are reminiscent of Seinfeld episodes, or action scenes that go a bit too well for the protagonist. These slips are brief, and largely can be forgiven. Overall, the pacing in the plot was pretty exquisite, offering a believable slow and subtle exposition, a clear second act that truly made one love the characters, an intense climax, and a very intriguing epilogue that slows back down and really hits home at the themes in a way I’m still processing. That all sounds like basic stuff, but it’s basic stuff more films have been getting wrong than right in recent years. Disney could learn a thing or two from Shinkai on plot progression.

My biggest gripe with this otherwise great film, however, is the use of music. I am a fan of Radwimps, but there were scenes at the end where the film began to feel more like an AMV than a proper film. Lyrical music is becoming generally a bit overused in anime films, not just Shinkai’s work but it is a minor gripe I had about recent works like Hello World and A Silent Voice. In part, Shinkai’s early films are responsible for this unfortunate trend, even though they were only really used at the end of 5 Centimeters Per Second and Children who Chase Lost Voices. I can excuse one or two in Kimi no Na Wa, even though I thought they detracted a tad bit from that film, but it got excessive near the end of Tenki no Ko. The soundtrack was otherwise fine, but I can’t help but miss the subtly beautiful piano and orchestral work Tenmon did for Shinkai’s earliest works.

Overall, Tenki no Ko was a very pleasant surprise. It is a very good, perhaps even excellent, film with some minor flaws. It is great to see Shinkai branch out a bit into new themes and concepts, and his growth with character development. A politically charged, but nonetheless touching, crime/adventure was not what at all what I was expecting. I would not have believed Shinkai was even capable of such a distinct film. Yet Tenki no Ko is remarkably effective. This is definitely a must-watch for any Shinkai fan, and any anime or movie fan more generally.

Story: 9/10
Art: 10/10
Sound: 6/10
Character: 8/10
Enjoyment: 10/10
Overall: 9/10

The basic idea for this film had great potential to be an elite-level film, unfortunately this is not what Hello World is. This is not to say it’s bad: Hello World is sort of a hodge-podge of a film that wound up being rather successful despite also being entirely too ambitious.

In the first five minutes, it becomes clear there is quite a bit more to this film then the synopsis would lead you to believe. The actual basic sci-fi elements are strongly reminiscent of The Matrix. The constant escalation of the action sequences involving those powers is reminiscent of classics like Akira. The idea ... of trying to bring a dead loved one back is at this point a trope in anime, but in a sci-fi setting (and in large part thanks to the ending) is most similar to Hal. As if that wasn’t enough, it tries to also be a slice-of-life high-school romcom with bildungsroman elements at times to boot. Although it is not as successful as any of those films artistically, it tries to do so many well-worn plots at once it somehow comes off as fresh and interesting. If I described “Matrix but a high school slife-of-life romance with action-packed battle sequences,” it wouldn’t sound appealing at all, but Hello World somehow pulls it off.

The plot is rather engrossing overall, but there were definitely times where the hodge-podge nature felt disjointed and overly convoluted. This was particularly true during some of the unimaginative moves during the climatic battle sequences that were startlingly juxtaposed with cliché romance jokes, almost like Evangelion but without a sense of irony. Further, some of the sci-fi elements felt a bit far-fetched and made up on the spot. However, at the end of the day I couldn’t help but enjoy trying to figure out the mysteries of the story as it unfolded, and the final twist left me way more satisfied in the end than I was throughout most of the film. With about twenty seconds left, my thoughts were, “That’s it? That felt like a confused mess?” But the last twenty seconds more than made up for it, tying together some of the most far-fetched sci-fi elements with lines of dialogue at the beginning about the protagonist’s desire to be a more assertive person in a nice, tight bow.
Speaking of the protagaonists, the characters are where this movie becomes a bit more cliché. Naomi is a rather stereotypical lead for both a romance and sci-fi anime: kind of a nerdy virgin who is socially awkward, especially with the opposite sex. It’s nothing special, but I guess characters like that are tropes for a reason because it sort of works. His older self is a bit more interesting given his sense of passion for Ruri. Ruri herself starts out with a strong personality, but she kind of fizzles out into just another forgettable stand in for a love interest towards the end. Most of the other side characters aren’t very important, but the more colorful personalities are hinted at well enough in subtle ways, like the eccentric professor at Keito university.

However, the area where this film fell most flat was in the animation and directing. Most of the fights felt very disjointed and awkwardly directed, with some rather obnoxiously low flame rates juxtaposed with overly fluid character movements creating an uncanny valley effect. Overall, the animation was riddled with corny-looking CG that was implemented rather poorly. The film had its moments of artistic competence, a lot of the background sets of Kyoto’s cityscape and streets were realistic and evocative (ironically enough, I saw an ad for this in Kyoto tower last month, which is especially funny given the climactic scene of the movie), and the more slice-of-life montages created a sense of character and relationship development very subtly with meaningful repeated transition motifs that were well animated. There was probably one or two music sequences too many, but they were well-directed enough to create a sense of nostalgia for the film. But, overall, the artistic direction felt even more like an incoherent hodge-podge than the plot, but unlike the plot was not tied together with a nice denouement. As a result, it felt more like a TV series with different episodes directed by different studios than a polished feature film in terms of animation.

Overall, Hello World is nothing overly special like I was hoping for given the high-quality looking adverts and glowing reviews. It’s a perfectly fine film that dabbles in clichés, but spins them together enough to be interesting and with enough unpredictable twists to pique the interests of sci-fi, romance, and action fans alike. Further, the intriguing ending makes it worth the watch alone. If the art direction were a bit more refined and the characters a bit more original, this would’ve been a significantly better film.

Plot: 8/10
Character: 5/10
Art: 5/10
Sound: 6/10
Enjoyment: 7/10
Overall: 6/10

Dr. Stone is an anime with a fascinating premise and a very intriguing world. On first pass, it looks competently animated, the plot progression is quite enjoyable, and hints at fascinating themes. With all those features, surely this series had to be quite great and I’m writing a rave review of it. Right? Well, in this stone world impossible things are possible. Despite all this series had going for it, it was wildly, ridiculously flawed. Dr. Stone is sophomorically directed, cartoonishly over-acted, and the largely decent soundtrack is used incorrectly. It’s childishly written, and its characters were unbearably cliché and plastic. It’s somehow simultaneously annoyingly ... pretentious and crudely constructed.

I will start with on positive note. The premise is incredibly intriguing. One day, some cataclysmic event causes every human being on earth to freeze in stone. Over 3,000 years later, a genius-level teenager, our main character Senku, and his brutish friend, Taiju, become unfrozen. Senku is now tasked with using all his scientific knowledge to rebuild human society from scratch. However, they unfreeze our main antagonist, Tsukasa, out of necessity. Tsukasa decides that a premodern world without scientific knowledge and liberal ideologies surrounding it would be better as the strong could survive, and evil people from modern society couldn’t corrupt the purity of the strong.

This premise, to quote Senku’s overly repeated catchphrase, has the potential to be “exhilarating.” We have themes explicitly discussed about the relationship of scientific knowledge to social progress and political ideologies, pitting modern liberal egalitarianism against a radically inegalitarian critique of individualism of modern society. As well as the potential for a fascinating, rewarding, almost RPG-like plot for the trials and tribulations of building scientific advancements out of nothing.

Instead of fleshing out those themes and premise, we get subjected to a cliche battle shounen/comedy replete with the most obnoxious of shounen tropes. Our main protagonist comes off like an obnoxious, pretentious Rick and Morty fan. He has little to no personality outside of the fact that he’s a stereotypical ‘genius science guy’ that is minimally built up using the most annoying tropes. He has no need for personal relationships and views everyone instrumentally, which just contradicts the whole thematic contrast that is explicitly brought to light at with his early arguments with Tsukasa. I can put up with unlikable main characters, but Senku is unlikable in ways that contradict the themes the anime pretty much throws in your face. As a result of marred execution, the themes this anime pretends to have just make absolutely no sense. Further, like most other characters in this anime, Senku’s development is non-existent and his entire development is unsubtly thrown in your face with the most obnoxious, predictable tropes (eg., he literally wears a shirt that says E=MC^2 for Christ’s sake, which might as well be from Big Bang Theory). Taiju is a typically bland shounen protagonist, driven only by love for a girl thousands of years ago at first that is quickly resolved, and then is just a rather useless energetic idiot. But it’s not a big deal, because he’s essentially entirely forgotten after about the tenth episode. Tsukasa, meanwhile, is just not sympathetic in anyway and is built up to just be a stereotypical badass with a stiff-to-non-existent. Taiju’s love interest, Yuzihara, is about as poorly written as a shounen female character could possibly be. She has no personality at all, and seems to only exist as a cheap excuse for occasional trashy weeb fan service.

As the plot progresses, Senku gets separated from Taiju and Yuzihara and he comes across a primitive village full of the descendants of the only survivors of the freezing. Senku starts using his rather unbelievable level of scientific knowledge to make the village more scientifically advanced, while Tsukasa goes off to unfreeze those he deems worthy to build his own somewhat anarcho-primitivist society. Little attention is given to Tsukasa for the rest of the series, as well as Taiju and Yuzihara who join his society as informants to Senku. They are largely ignored for the rest of the series, which brings to mind one of the worst traits of series like HunterxHunter and Naruto: forgetting important characters and plot points for extended lengths of time that makes everything in between feel like filler. It would’ve been better served if it would’ve shown what was going on with the antagonist and given a chance to develop the rest of the characters. The rest of the season is essentially just an expository build-up to the inevitable war between Senku’s Kingdom of Science and Taiju’s Kingdom of stone which will happen in season two.

The cast of characters in the village is notably better than the cast we started with for the first ten episodes. There’s Chrome, a curious villager who becomes Senku’s protégé and is essentially a smarter version of your typical Shounen protagonist. Ginro, a boisterous and vain guard. Kohaku, the younger sister of the village cheif who is essentially the only somewhat well-written female character in the series. Run, the village’s princess and a cliché damsel in distress. Gen, a vain mentalist from modern society who was unfrozen and decided to join Senku because he wants modern conveniences. Kaseki, an ever-resourceful craftsman who helps Senku in his inventions. Magma, who has ambitions to be village leader and distrusts Senku for potentially taking that away from him. As well as a host of others. None of them are particularly well written, but some of the dynamics they have are at least passably entertaining and minor characters, though understandably underdeveloped, are less cliché and stiff than the main cast.

Most of the middle portion of the series involves Senku earning the trust of the villagers by building modern conveniences for them. Things from simple frivolities like decorative spears and ramen, to unbelievable advancements like electricity generators and antibiotics. Here, the writers really stretch your willing suspension of disbelief. Sure, the basic premise does a bit and unbelievable feats are forgivable in a shonen, but for a show ostensibly about science it is wildly unrealistic. The idea that Senku as a teenager is an expert on every single aspect of modern technology is ridiculous, a lot of the ways they build the technology are wildly crude for the precise results they get (like vacuum tubes, prescription glasses, and chemical antibiotics). Heck, in the first few episodes we are told Senku somehow stayed conscious every waking moment of 3,700 years, and Tsukasa (an 18-year-old, mind you) can somehow kill a lion in one punch. I suppose I can forgive it for a little unrealism, but it comes off as pretty damn corny most of the time with its over-the-top theatrics.

That’s not to say the invention phase was devoid of entertainment value. Probably the best part of the series was watching the villagers come together to build impossible inventions, at times learning to innovate themselves. The sense of discovery and accomplishment from watching them made this series far more enjoyable than its aesthetic merit would predict. Further, the background story and lore for the village was well-executed in well-placed flashbacks and was one of the best points the story had going for it, even if the idea behind was a little ham-fisted and not believable. The world-building, setting, and sense of history were strong points.

But beyond the “invention of the week format,” the key plot points were developed in ridiculous, formulaic ways. We have the annoying cliché of a Shonen battle tournament to determine the village leader, which is interrupted in the dumbest of all possible ways. We have annoyingly over-explained battle techniques and tactics and overly liberal use of flashbacks. Most of the ugly features typical of battle shonen are omnipresent, which is extremely disappointing given the compelling premise meant that they were entirely unnecessary. No sense of subtly given to any writing at any turn. Worse yet, it introduces humor at the worst most annoying of points when it could have a modicum of emotional engagement. Sometimes, the jokes are funny, but most of the time they’re just childlishly rehashing the stereotypical actions of characters in predictable, unfunny ways. Often times, the humor is just the same few jokes told repeatedly.

The scenes that were supposed to have emotional impact were largely just Senku repeating the same few inspirational lines about science over and over with over-the top animated representations, indicated how low-quality the direction was. The animation quality itself looks fine at a glance, but when the only way anything could be conveyed was with unfunny chibi lines and over-the-top diagrams, you really get the sense the directors had no clue how to convey anything without feeding it to the viewers on a silver spoon. No sense of originality was given to the direction at all, despite the talent in just drawing pretty scenes that was present.

The soundtrack sounded fine and the basic instrumentation of the main themes was mostly fitting, but it would often introduce musical interludes at the most predictable of times. Like the music was just some sort of applause card for a live studio audience or something, worsening the overall ham-fisted nature of the direction. The voice acting, meanwhile, usually over-acted especially with the main cast, again feeding the theme of a lack of subtly, and unremarkable. At least the OPs were quite good.

To conclude, this was a deeply flawed anime. I’ll admit, it’s quite enjoyable to watch, but in the way that eating cheap junk food is enjoyable. It’s just designed to formulaically hit dopamine receptors in the most conventional, safe and predictable manner possible, and not really do much else. It feels like a series with remarkable potential that was wasted by a studio that just wanted to callously cash in on a marketable IP. I suppose whether the themes will make sense will depend on where it goes in the second season, I have not read the manga. I will probably watch it just like I will probably eat potato chips despite knowing they’ll ruin my dinner, but I wouldn’t recommend that you do it as well.

Story: 3/10
Art: 3/10
Sound: 4/10
Character: 1/10
Enjoyment: 6/10
Overall: 3/10

After MAPPA’s last incredibly successful project in 2018, Banana Fish, the studio is back to breathe life into another iconic classic manga with a modern interpretation. This time it is the great “father of manga” Osamu Tezuka’s series Dororo. However, MAPPA and director Kazuhiro Furuhashi, of Rurouni Kenshin fame, took more liberties with the source material than usual this time around. Most of the time when this happens, the changes are made to cheapen the source material, to make it shallow enough to fit a large television audience. But with this series that is not the case, MAPPA’s version of Dororo is a refreshingly modern ... take on Tezuka’s work which deepens its thematic content and more subtlety develops its characters while still staying true to the spirit of the original. It is very rare to see an adaptation take so many liberties with source material while being so successful.

Dororo is a dark historical fantasy set near the beginning of Japan’s Sengoku period. The series begins with a samurai lord, Daigo, sacrificing his first-born child to demons in exchange for prosperity for his land. However, his son, Hyakkimaru, survives despite missing most of his body. Years later, he is on a quest to get parts of his body back by killing demons and meets a young orphan named Dororo who accompanies him. This basic premise is kept in common with the original 1969 series and Tezuka’s manga, yet many large changes are also made. Beyond obvious differences in art style, while the original Hyakkimaru could still (in a matter somewhat straining suspension of disbelief) speak to the spirit of those around him, this adaptation he is kept mostly silent at first. This was an excellent decision because it means through much of the series Hyakkimaru’s character is developed extremely subtly, allowing his facial expressions, well-placed flashbacks, and his actions to show the story rather than having him directly tell everything right off the bat like the original series did. This also means the story progresses in a far slower, though more believable manner, with both Dororo’s and Hyakkimaru’s revealed several episodes in at spots that make more sense.

That slow, subtle, subdued style of storytelling is ultimately the theme that makes this series so successful. As the series progresses, it takes on a more episodic style through the central bulk of the series, like the original. Hyakkimaru defeats a new demon and gains back his body parts each episode, while slowly developing Dororo and Hyakkimaru’s compelling friendship that keeps the whole series so compelling. This episodic nature is sometimes viewed negatively as mere filler, derisively called a “monster of the week” format. But this take somewhat misses the point. A few of extra stories are added by MAPPA, and they are “filler” in the sense that they do not have huge repercussions for the rest of the story. However, this is filler at its best. Most of the largely stand-alone episodes, both Tezuka’s originals and MAPPA’s additions, with very few exceptions, are compelling stories in their own right. But, more importantly, they are not merely stand-alone filler. They serve the important purpose of relatably, slowly, and subtly developing the main characters in ways that is so rarely successful with filler. It is reminiscent of what made the early episodes of Fullmetal Alchemist so good, but carried on through a larger portion of the series. I will strongly defend episodic so-called “filler” when it is done for the purpose of building characters beautifully, and this is this concept executed at its finest.

This is not to say the series is merely episodic and character-driven series like Natsume’s Book of Friends. After some refreshingly good episodic adventures that develop Hyakkimaru and Dororo’s characters so well, you’ll encounter a key turning point that unveils the backstory of one of the main characters, unveils some fact or character that will become important later on, or will feature a key confrontation that will drive forward the engaging plot of Hyakkimaru’s quest to regain his body and Dororo’s struggle to deal with his traumatic past. Further, this series has extremely well-presented philosophical themes. Through exploring Hyakkimaru’s quest it asks questions like: does one persons’ right to their own life and body supersede the basic well-being of an entire nation? Is it conducive to the cultivation of personal virtue for one to kill even when one is morally permitted to take back what they have rightful ownership over? What would it even mean for one to become a full person if one’s only way of doing so is through morally questionable means? These questions were not taken up quite as explicitly in the original series, but MAPPA’s interpretation also presents the themes the original presented so eloquently on the horrors of war and gender roles in Japanese history. Overall, the plot drove home the themes in a way that intertwines with the dialogue very well and that really hits home the difficulty of the questions.

As compelling as the plot and its thematic questions were, what really keeps made this series so enjoyable was its great, dynamic cast of characters. Taking the best cues from the source material, Hyakkimaru and his friendship with Dororo is the obvious case here. Rarely have I ever seen a friendship between two characters be so compelling. The dynamic between Dororo’s childish tendencies as he playfully tries to overcome his past contrasted with the dark and brooding Hyakkimaru on a morally grey quest who also has childlike experiences as he regains parts of his body is a breath of fresh air. There really is little as enjoyable in a series as seeing Hyakkimaru have a normal, everyday experience for the first time after regaining a body part and having a child guide him through it. That perhaps is only matched by the subtle changes to his character as he develops, such as going from speaking barely complete sentences to briefly yet so beautifully articulating some of the darkest themes of the show.
Yet it’s not just the main two who are so well-developed, there’s also Hyakkimaru’s brother and his entourage we meet later who become some of the most compelling antagonists in recent memory, Hyakkimaru’s mother who becomes sort of a tragic foil for Dororo, and flashbacks to Dororo’s family and her father’s rivals who appear that develop those characters very well. With a few exceptions, almost every minor side character who even appears for just one episode are believably written and well-fleshed out. Even a pair of blood-thirsty sharks who only appear for two episodes somehow become gripping characters. The only major character who is somewhat underdeveloped that we never really get the chance to relate to was the main antagonist, Lord Diago.

The richness of the characters was helped along by some pretty good animation. For the early episodes, Hyakkimaru barely talks and very subtle but stellar character design did almost all the talking. In all, the character design was one of the strongest features of the animation team, which seems to be a reoccurring feature of MAPPA’s work. This is not to say the character was flawless. There were various nods to Tetsuko’s distinctive style that did not mesh very well with the modernizations taken, particularly the inconsistent level of detail in limbs (especially feet). Like some other MAPPA series, there were also noticeable dips in quality during some of the filler episodes, especially towards the end of the series. Framerates would drop to painfully low levels and background sets would be disappointingly devoid of all detail during transition shots. Yet, when the animation was on it was great, stellar even. Do not expect photorealistic levels of set design, it instead opts to match its subdued storytelling with more impressionistic background sets—a style that matches the tone of the series rather well.

As a whole, the directing of the series was not extremely special, but there were particular shots that really stood out. Most of the fight scenes are extremely well choreographed if a little repetitive. But the art direction especially stood out when it showed first-person shots to really drive home relatability to the characters, a style that was displayed at its very best during several fantastic shots in the series finale. The voice acting also really drove home the characters extremely well, with Shoya Chiba’s portrayal of Tahomaru and Hiroki Suzuki’s subtle voice acting for Hyakkimaru being standout performances.

As for the soundtrack, it did not stand out as anything especially memorable but was very fitting for the tone of the series. There were several drum tracks that were clear nods to the original series, which I appreciate. I will say, however, that both the openings were exceptional, both in terms of song choice and art direction. I was unsure if Queen Bee’s “Fire” was the right choice to match the tone of the series at first, but it grew on me and thematically matched the first half of the series very well. Asian Kung Fu Generation’s original track was a safe choice, but it really paid off in that it was everything a good anime intro should be and its accompanying animation depicted Dororo and Hyakkimaru’s compelling friendship as perfectly as it could have.

While not flawless by any means, Dororo is a fantastic series. With its compelling cast of dynamic characters, productively episodic format, historical setting, great fantasy elements, well-choreographed action sequences all well engaging in rich ethical themes it’s almost everything I wish most action/adventure shounen anime could be. It could have been more consistent in art quality, slightly better directed, and it does not have quite the immersive world I want to get lost in to call it a true instant masterpiece, but this series is a modernization of a classic at its best. I highly recommend you watch it as you just might enjoy it as much as I did.

Story: 9/10
Art: 7/10
Sound: 8/10
Character: 10/10
Enjoyment: 10/10
Overall: 9/10

After years of everyone from personal friends to random internet commentators imploring me to watch Madhouse’s 2011 adaptation of Hunter x Hunter, I finally got around to it. I was told that this was the best long-form battle shounen out there, avoiding all the sins of mediocrity other Shonen Jump titles like Naruto, One Piece, and Bleach commit. I was told Hunter x Hunter did not constantly try to implausibly escalate the stakes of each battle, didn’t rely on boring cliché motivations of characters just wanting to get stronger for no reason, did not draw out its battle sequences for outrageous lengths of time, did ... not include random unnecessary filler. When I looked more into it I saw that its animation was far superior to anything I’d seen of a similar length and that it was in the all-time top 5 on MAL. I came into it with somewhat high expectations. I was not expecting a masterpiece, but at least a competently written and directed series that would outpace the mediocrity I’ve come to expect of this genre.

It turns out, I must not be in on some elaborate inside joke or meme. After sitting through 148 episodes of this I do not see how anybody over the age of twelve could impartially think this series is anything special. The bottom line is this is one of the most completely incoherent, unevenly paced, poorly thought out, and generic series I’ve ever seen.

I suppose I’ll start with my positive notes about the series. First, the animation is noticeably better than just about any series of this length. It got a little slipshod for moments around episodes 100-120 with ill-fitting CGI thrown in now and then, but started and ended strong and was never unnervingly bad. My biggest complaint about the artstyle, which has way more to do with the source material than Madhouse’s animation quality, is that the character designs are not coherent with each other. With a few exceptions (eg., Hisoka, Biscuit, and Palm) they look fine, but it looks like they were all ripped out of completely different series. However, I suppose that’s a sign of things to come as the plot is also an incoherent mess that feels like several different series randomly crammed together. Another positive note is that the soundtrack is actually rather exceptional, almost ill-fittingly so considering how weak the series itself is. However, various tracks were over-used and ran somewhat hollow towards the end. Overall, the soundtrack might have been the best point of the series. The voice acting is mostly adequate, with Mariya Ise’s performance of Killua really standing out. I would recommend avoiding the English dub for the most part (I watched about half of the series dubbed) as some side characters have really shoddy and obnoxious actors.

There are also redeeming aspects of character development and plot progression. For the most part, all that stuff I was told about it avoiding the sins most other shounen commit was true for the first sixty or so episodes. The first few “fight” scenes actually felt like refreshing deconstructions of what is so annoying about most shounen fight sequences. For an example, a character would start up some annoying cliched banter about how powerful he was and how he couldn’t be beaten like most scenes from Naruto only to be shut up by a punch in the face. It felt refreshingly well-paced in the first three or so arcs, the main cast of characters were rather endearing, and there was little in the way of boring filler.

However, even in the early episodes, it never felt like anything special. I was enjoying it well enough and could see why some people really liked it, but it was somewhat generic and far from a masterpiece. The first arc was a fairly typical exam-style arc, very similar, for example, to the chunin exams in Naruto. It revolves around our main character Gon trying to get a Hunter license through an extremely difficult exam involving a wide variety of off-the-wall, unrelated tasks. The main point of this arc was to acquaint viewers with the main cast of characters and introduce the notion of what a “hunter” is.

There’s Gon, a rather endearingly naïve and ambitious 12-year-old trying to earn a Hunter’s license so he can meet his father who abandoned him as a child; a clichéd lead for a shounen, but adequate. Kurapika, a somewhat ill-tempered but driven character bent on getting revenge for the murder of his people. Leorio, a stock comedic relief character with a somewhat compelling backstory hinted at early on but never explored. Easily the best character of the series is Killua, a 12-year-old former assassin who becomes best friends with Gon early on who is trying to escape his family’s will to turn him into an assassin. Killua and Gon’s friendship (that, at times, arguably verges into canon romance, at least from Killua’s perspective) is really the highlight of the series. Killua’s dark and brooding demeanor, as well as his high skill-level, acts as a perfect counterbalance to the charming but comedically stupid naivety and innocence of Gon. The way Killua is constantly trying to prove to himself that he’s good enough for Gon was the only consistently good character dynamic that kept me watching through this series’ most painful moments. The last notable and memorable character from this early sequence is Hisoka, a wildly underdeveloped possibly pedophilic clown who seems only motivated to someday fight Gon because he wants a challenge (we’re already getting into boring shonen clichés) and acts as the series' only consistent antagonist, even when he helps the main protagonist. But at least he’s somewhat entertaining with how off-the-wall he is.

Towards the end of this arc, though, you realize that it accomplishes almost nothing in the way of interesting world-building. You realize about fifteen episodes in, with some dismay, that “Hunter” is just a term for a generic action-hero mercenary. It mostly turns out this exam is little more than a disconnected variety game show. But, hey, at least the characters are somewhat compelling, if a little bland, and the games are somewhat interesting. At this point, I was still optimistic and thought if they flesh out these main characters other than Killua a bit more this could get good.

As you get into the second arc, the series begins to go a little stale and it becomes really clear just how lazy and bland the supposed worldbuilding for this fictional setting is. After a few episodes of rallying Killua back from his family, which served for some interesting character building, the main four characters split up. Killua and Gon participate in another shonen cliché of a battle tournament to get money, as well as pawning some antiques on the side, to obtain a video game that somehow has some hint as to how to find Gon’s dad. The main point of this section is to engage in some worldbuilding around the use of aura and nen—the main fighting mechanic of this series. It renders the first arc mostly useless since it turns out obtaining the Hunters license didn’t mean anything, meaning the notion there is not any unnecessary filler here was a lie. The fighting mechanics are overexplained at times and is a rather typical plot device for a shonen, but it gets the job done. This is one of the more boring and forgettable sections of the series, and that is saying something considering the tedium to come.

More interestingly, Kurapika begins to try to enact his revenge plot against a gang called the Phantom Spiders and we get some interesting development of his character. Eventually, the two subplots of Gon and Killua training and Kurapika getting revenge dovetail as they try to stop the antagonists from robbing. The video game angle is forgotten for about twenty episodes, just one of many times a key plot point will be randomly dropped. Oh, and now Leorio is mostly forgotten, a sign of stupidity to come as he and Kurapika—two of the only compelling main characters—are about to be completely forgotten for nearly 80 episodes.

When Gon and Killua finally obtain their video game, the “Greed Island” arc starts. Here, it becomes clear that this is far from what I was promised. Greed Island is easily the worst arc I’ve ever seen in any shounen anime. The basic premise of this is basically the bastard child of Yu-Gi-Oh and Sword Art Online but somehow manages to be worse than both. Almost everything that happened in the first few arcs is completely forgotten, Gon again gets completely distracted from the goal of finding his father and gets sidetracked with the game and another random unnecessary training sequence. Killua acts completely out of character throughout this arc and is almost as naïve as Gon suddenly. Almost every other character from earlier in the series is entirely absent, and an entirely new cast of characters is introduced as well as an overexplained, convoluted new plot device of a stupid card game. The phantom troop from Kurapika’s arc shows up for a minute for no good reason and is then promptly forgotten and Hisoka plays a big role but acts way out of his previously established character.

The early part of this arc is a bunch of boring exposition spoon-fed to the viewer through badly written explanatory dialogue that needed to be done because the arc had nothing to do with anything before it. This really points to the problem of having such a completely incoherent, unrelated set of arcs: the viewers’ time is wasted with a bunch more exposition when nobody really wants tedious explanation 60+ episodes into the series. It is really reminiscent of how dreary the filler arc at the end of the original Naruto was. But at least those filler serials made some sense, most of the time, this arc was as convoluted and nonsensical as it was dull. The worst thing is during one of the most outrageously stupid moments in the history of shonen, a battle revolving around (of all things) dodgeball, all the worst clichés of mediocre shonen I was told Hunter x Hunter avoided were on full, proud display. The basic rules of dodgeball are boringly overexplained through narration eight times, the fight scene drags on for far too long, an emotionally-driven power-up by Gon is what ultimately won it, and the antagonist for the fight was built up using boring tropes (such as defeating other characters previous built-up as strong instantly to build up a new character's perceived powerfulness). The main antagonists for the arc were completely boring, unpredictable, and underdeveloped. I barely made it through this arc and almost dropped the series altogether, but was told the next arc was better.

Like the theme song I was now growing weary of told me, “there definitely is a good reason to persevere,” so persevere I did. Turns out, just like my friends did when they told me this was the best shonen ever, that was mostly a lie. The Chimera Ant arc—which takes up about 40% of the series—was better from the start, but wound up being so horribly executed that it was really frustrating to watch. Killua’s character got some important development with his relationship to Gon. A new rival for Gon’s attention acted as a good foil to Killua. A little bit of somewhat interesting world building is accomplished, but I was now really noticing how horridly lazy the worldbuilding was. Apparently, the world map is just a flipped version of a real-world mercatus projection. But, hey, it’s something.

Again, this arc has almost nothing to do with anything that came before it, an entirely new cast of characters are introduced, and we’re exposed to even more exposition. But at least the exposition is somewhat enjoyable this time around. The premise of this arc is that a bunch of humanoid ants are killing everyone in one country to try to give birth to a new king, and Gon and Killua join some old friends of Gon’s father to stop it. The antagonists this time around are by far the most interesting and dynamic of the whole series and provide interesting external commentary on human societies. The premise is interesting, it was paced slower but felt well-executed, it was thematically interesting. Around episode 95 I was thinking this series might redeem itself.

Then, the main battle sequence starts and the so-far passable Chimera Ant arc completely jumps the shark. A whole bunch of characters we only got vague backstories on twenty to thirty episodes earlier are suddenly super important so it's hard to keep track of what’s going on. The battle sequence is now so drawn-out it makes Dragon Ball battles seem snappy. Seriously, a good twenty episodes into the big important climatic attack on the antagonist, the narrator announces only three minutes have passed.

Speaking of the narrator, that’s the worst part about this arc. Almost every damn moment of episodes 100-120 is taken up by horribly written, contrived narration. Every move in the battle, every psychological state of every character is just spoon-fed by the narrator. It’s not like the directors were incapable of subtlety, most of the narration was completely unnecessary since Madhouse actually did a decent job at subtley portraying battle techniques and emotional dispositions (although the animation through this arc was the worst of the series). The moment you almost get into the atmosphere of a scene during the battle, the narrator’s there to break the fourth wall and ruin everything, destroying any emotional depth that could be salvaged. The whole point of a visual medium like a television series is to show us characters’ dispositions, motivations, and beliefs, or even the basic events of the plot, not just tell it to us. Otherwise, we might as well forego every single film adaptation of novels and stick to audiobooks. For the most part, this sub-arc felt more like an audiobook than an anime.

Worse yet, the events at the climax of the battle are as implausible as they are ridiculous. Gon’s happy and naïve character fantastically changes way too quickly into a bloodthirsty sadist during another revenge arc (because Kurapika’s been forgotten for about 80 episodes) as he seeks vengeance for another minor side character we’ve barely gotten to know. The battle hilariously escalates into ridiculousness. Character designs become downright stupid (at one point the antagonists turn into chibis and Gon looks like handsome Squidward with impossibly long hair), fights between minor side-characters we do not really care that much about are drawn out into three episode sequences, and things escalate beyond credulity.

When all the dust is settled, eight or so episodes are spent on the resolution to this arc. There are flashes of brilliance here and there, and you’re thankful the narrator has finally shut the hell up. The most notable moment is the finale for the main antagonist of this arc, Mereum, which was probably the best-directed scene of the series. It was so high-quality it felt out of place since the animation quality dipped during the battle. Other than that, there were a bunch of scenes that were supposed to be emotionally charged, but so many characters were introduced 30 or so episodes ago with little development in between, the viewer is mostly spent struggling to remember who was who and wondering why she should care.

It’s a shame, this arc had a lot of potentials, but it was wasted on fantastically dumb battle sequences and contrived narration to shoehorn in as many new characters as possible rather than actually focus in on the few compelling characters and events in the arc. The most notable half-delivered promise of this arc was the rather rushed development of the main antagonist Mereum which was incredibly compelling before the battle. It’s amazing how the most drawn-out section of this anime managed to rush even the most important parts, like Gon’s dynamic change in his quest for revenge or Mereum’s battle between being an ant and a human. But hey, at least they didn’t just randomly forget key characters and plot elements from this arc like they did everywhere else.

The final mini-arc is when this series just got extremely tedious, boring, and entirely unenjoyable—even more tedious than the drawn-out battle sequence. Gon is injured from the big fight, Killua needs to go retrieve his sister who has some special power to heal him—who at this point we’ve never met and have no clue why Killua cares so much for her if he’s never mentioned her, but I guess expecting basic narrative coherence was out of the question at this point. This would be fine, except it keeps getting sidetracked with this tedious political drama about the Hunter organization trying to run an election which is mostly extremely dull bureaucratic dialogue with a bunch of crudely designed characters we’ve never met before who are introduced in a rushed fashion. Remember that infamous scene from the Phantom Menace where they sit in the Galactic Senate talking for too long? Imagine that for about six episodes worth of content. It’s miserable to watch.

It ends on a higher note. The stupid election bureaucracy fizzles out and it turns out to have mattered even less than we thought it did. Gon gets reunited with his father, which is nice enough. There’s a lack of satisfying resolve in Gon and Killua’s friendship, but after the 90 episodes of garbage, the last 3 or so were stronger. I suppose Madhouse deserves some credit for wrapping up an unfinished manga with a plausibly fulfilling ending.

Honestly, I do not really know why anyone takes this series all that seriously. This only deserves a small fraction of the hype and critical acclaim it gets. Maybe people are so desperate for a competently animated long-form shounen that is less than 500 episodes they’re willing to overlook the deep flaws in this show? It feels like a completely incoherent Dungeons and Dragons campaign run by a bunch of ADHD 11-year-olds on crack. Maybe you like the off-the-wall style of storytelling and the way it constantly and implausibly ups the ante on your willful suspension of disbelief. But even if so, it is downright frustrating when key characters and plot points are completely forgotten, when you have to sit through exposition after exposition, or when battles get as drawn out and cliché as they do in this series. The only reason it’s not getting a lower score is because Killua is a uniquely memorable and well-developed character, the first 50 or so episodes were at least enjoyable, and it does deserve some credit for being much more visually polished than most of its peers.

Consider how Hunter x Hunter compares with other long-form battle shounen that are notable for their mediocrity even during its most successful arcs . Compare it to, for example, Naruto or Shingeki no Kyojin. What keeps me hooked on a series like Naruto or SnK despite how deeply flawed they are is that they have coherent, well-defined and interesting worlds into which I can get somewhat immersed. If I’m investing more than 100 episodes in to a series, I want to get lost in the world. I can tolerate implausibly high-stakes battle sequences where the main character is just screaming like in SnK if the setting is interesting and the premise is compelling. I can sit through bland exposition of a new larger cast of characters 200 episodes into Naruto Shippuden if I get a sense of how they fit into the larger narrative in world.

Sure, when Hunter x Hunter is at its best in the first third of the series it avoids some of the most glaring flaws of those shows with ridiculously drawn-out battle sequences, spoon-fed explanations, and constant escalation issues. However, it has no sense of immersion or coherent world-building at all since the setting and premise is so generic and never fully fleshed out. When there’s an attempt to give a sense of setting, the elements are randomly pulled out of someone’s ass on the spot with contrived narration and it usually contradicts whatever came before it. Even the city names are generic, lazy knock-offs like Yorknewcity or Pajing. Gon’s main attack is based off rock, paper, scissors, for Christ's sake. The result is when the few interesting main characters are absent and I’m forced to sit through more exposition of new characters and battle techniques or when it begins to fall into those bad shonen battle clichés during the Chimera Ant and Greed Island arcs, I just lose all sense of interest and watching the series becomes a dull exercise in perseverance. Ultimately, that lazy world-building and lack of coherence makes Hunter x Hunter even worse than most of the mediocre shounen to which it is favorably compared. Paired with the way key points are just dropped and forgotten for good and the cast of characters becomes so large and rushed, the whole series becomes downright frustrating.

At its best, Hunter x Hunter is a rather unremarkable battle shounen with a handful of memorable characters. At its worst, it’s a completely incoherent, tedious, barely watchable mess. At any given moment, it could be anything between those two extremes. Even though there are a lot of enjoyable moments and some good characters to salvage from the series, I have a hard time recommending this to all but the most hardcore of shounen fans.

Story: 1/10
Art: 6/10
Sound: 7/10
Character: 3/10
Enjoyment: 3/10
Overall 4/10

Warning: This review contains some major spoilers

Natsu e no Tobira holds a rather interesting place in anime and manga history. Its source material was a short manga written by Keiko Takemiya, an important forerunner in shounen-ai and romance. In fact, it even features one of the first male homosexual kiss scenes in shojo anime and manga. It was one of the first films from the legendary studio Madhouse, who collaborated with the equally influential studio Toei. Further, it was the first film directed by the obscure, yet low-key highly influential director Mori Marasaki most famous for his work on Barefoot Gen. That alone makes it ... an interesting historical footnote, but can it hold up on its own merits? Unfortunately, the answer to this question is mostly a flat “No.”

Natsu e no Tobira tells the story of a few boys at a boarding school in what appears to be prerevolutionary France (though the exact historical setting is unclear to me). It focuses on Marion, a hyper-rational, emotionally and sexually repressed young boy, and his friends who idolize Marion. Marion is in love with another girl in his class, yet is too nervous and repressed to express any emotion to her. One day, a 40-year-old woman named Sarah shows up and coaxes Marion into an affair (more accurately, rapes him until he likes it in the film’s most striking and surprisingly graphic scene), which changes him from a typical Enlightenment-era shrewd into a regular Don Juan-style playboy. This comes as a dismay to his friends, especially a boy named Claude who, it is later revealed, has a crush on Marion. Claude kills himself in the end out of terror, and Marion loses his all his friends.

On the surface, the film is a trite, rehashed, boring coming-of-age story and love triangle gone wrong mostly focusing on the struggle of attaining sexual maturity. Worse yet, it appears to be a genesis of shounen-ai’s obnoxious, unrealistic, and debauched penchant for glorifying rape fantasies. Below the surface, if you can excuse me for possibly reading too much into this, it strives to have something like political and moral commentary. The most interesting theme to me is how it explores what happens when liberal notions of rights and duties are abandoned. In the film’s most memorable and best-written scene where Sara essentially rapes Marion, Marion insists that Sara has no right to touch his body. Sara responds by claiming that this is not a question of right, rebukes the libertarian notion that Marion has any special claim of self-ownership and is really owned by his friends and family members.

After this, Marion appears to have bought Sara’s argument, professes to have fallen in love with her, and proclaims he’s finally happy and beginning to like other people. Yet given the way the film ends with his would-be lover committing suicide and Marion’s desertion of his rationalist, liberal moral notions destroying basically everyone’s life, it does not seem that the author agrees with Sara’s quasi-communitarian critique of rights and duties. I would argue Sara is really the antagonist, and the film admirably does not glorify Marion’s rape but shows the consequences when seductive abuse leads one to abandon their basic moral convictions.

Or, at least, that’s what this film could have been. I hope that my over-analysis shows that the basic skeleton of the plot and writing had some potential for something resembling depth. Unfortunately, this potential is marred by horrendous execution. Absolutely no exposition is given beyond contrived narration to make one care about any of the characters at all. Claude’s love for Marion is not even revealed until the climatic scene of his suicide (where he also, confusingly, begins to sexually assault Marion which is completely out of his character). Other than Marion, all the characters are flat and completely uninteresting—and even in Marion’s case his development strains credibility since it is so rushed.

The result is that ostensibly emotionally intense scenes fall completely flat. Anyone who was not looking for anything more than a good romance story is probably left wondering why anyone should care, the weird ones like me who overanalyze this stuff feel like we were jipped out of an ok plot with some thematic decent potential. Worse yet, many events especially in the second half of the film are completely disconnected and jarringly transition from and to each other. Make no mistake about it, this is a horrendously poorly-executed, poorly paced, badly constructed story.

However, there are other things that one can salvage from the experience. The art design and animation is interesting and easily the best thing about this film, though inconsistent in quality. You can tell Misaki was completely uninterested in delivering on the plot, and spent all of his efforts constructing a rather well-directed and animated film. There are interesting abrupt changes in color palates from sort of pastel-heavy scenes reminiscent of watercolor paintings, to minimalist sketch outlines, to dark monochrome scenes that are fitting to the mood they are supposed to have. Further, there are some quite visually striking pillow shots.

The character designs are dated, oddly feminine for male characters, but adequate and pretty interesting. From a purely technical perspective, it’s a valiant first effort for a new director but it’s a shame Misaki was given such bad source material. Maybe he could have rewritten the script so it ventured from the manga, added to exposition and character development in the early stages and made it so we had a reason to give a damn about the plot. But he did not, so it’s ultimately an adequate adaptation of a bad story with a lot of missed opportunities.

Most of the voice acting is, at best, mediocre and uninspired. The soundtrack is inconsistent. At times, it makes everything feel like a cliché, corny, melodramatic soap opera. Other times, it just completely distracts from the dialogue. But there are scenes where it worked, especially near the end, and was rather interesting. At best, however, the soundtrack is adequate; and at worst, completely stale.

Overall, is this worth seeing? Maybe if you have an hour to kill and are really interested in obscure anime history or really like Misaki’s later works. However, there are probably better uses of your time.

Story: 2/10
Art: 7/10
Sound: 4/10
Character: 1/10
Enjoyment 3/10
Overall: 3/10

It is well known, even mentioned in the first two episodes, that Banana Fish borrows its odd name from a classic short story written by JD Salinger called “A Perfect Day for Banana Fish.” What is somewhat less noted, however, is how perfectly this reference captures the theme and style of the manga and anime series. Salinger’s story tells of the suicide of Seymour Glass, a World War II vet. The most famous passage of the story features a young man telling a young girl of the “very tragic life” of the Bananafish species who enter a “banana hole” as “very-ordinary looking fish” and gorge ... themselves on bananas until they are unable to escape and die.” In many ways, the life of these fictional fish mirrors the life of the main protagonist in the anime, Ash Lynx. One critic of Salinger (Janet Malcolm of the New Yorker) has noted that Salinger depicts life “as a battleground between the normal and abnormal, the ordinary and the extraordinary, the talentless and the gifted, the well and the sick.” This, too, is a very apt description of the picture we get of the dark world in the anime.

Banana Fish tells the story of Ash, a brilliant 17-year-old boy. Ash was raped at a young age, ran away from home and taken in by the mafia as a sex slave, worked is way up in the organization after winning the favor of the mafia boss (and main antagonist, Dino Goldzine), and is currently a gang leader in New York. As might be expected of anyone with such a tragic background, Ash is extremely mentally unhealthy, verging into becoming a full-fledged sociopath just like his abusers. Into his life comes Eiji, a rather normal yet caring Japanese photographer traveling with a journalist documenting gang life in America. Here we immediately see the contrast between normal and abnormal, well and sick, and talentless and gifted, and how this contrast might hopefully be resolved in Ash and Eiji’s relationship. Yet Banana Fish is also about a riveting mystery around what “banana fish”—not the fictional species of Salinger—is, its connections to a massive plot involving the military, and the development character of a large cast of interesting, well-developed gangsters who act as fantastic foils to Ash (particularly a Chinese mob master named Yut-Lung).

The basic concept of the plot is intriguing, engrossing, and thematically dense. It plays in morally gray areas beyond good and evil, capturing some rather Nietzschean themes about the healthiness or unhealthiness of basic morality. Do “normal” moral constraints merely domesticate prodigious nobles like Ash or helps humanize such people and making them truly happy? Ultimately, Banana Fish takes the side of the latter. It further explores extremely dark psychological dimensions of post-traumatic stress disorder, graphic depictions of sexual assault and violence, manipulation, and psychological torture. Be warned, this is not a series for the faint of heart. Yet it consistently gives room for characters to realistically react to these events, and console each other through the darkest of moments (this becomes the cornerstone of Ash and Eiji’s relationship).

Is the execution of this concept, adapted from Akimi Yoshoda’s classic, critically acclaimed 1985-94 manga series, any good though? I have not read the manga so cannot comment on its status as an adaptation. However, I can say that it largely stands up on its own merits. Some have raised concerns about MAPPA’s decision to put the series in modern era rather than its original setting in the late-80s. I agree it probably would have been stronger in its original time. There are moments where some events strain credulity in a modern setting. The whole notion of a gang scene this active and violent in New York makes sense in the 80s in a way it no longer does, some of the projects the military engaged in so central to the plot were more fitting in the Cold War than the modern context, the lack of professional female characters in even in the background (eg., doctors, police, etc.) is somewhat odd in 2018, and a lot of the political commentary is more suited to 1980s America than modern day. Overall, there is very little distinctive about the story that demands a modern setting. However, these are rather minor gripes and if we can suspend our disbelief for so many plot-hole ridden absurd fantastical shounen anime, a little anachronism and is completely forgivable.

Another somewhat valid complaint is the unbelievably high concentration of homosexual/bisexual male characters, or at least those who are willing to engage in sexual acts with other men. Sometimes, it is unclear whether the characters want to have sex for erotic reasons or are simply using sexual abuse with other males as a method of control and power (as is usually the case with sexual abuse), and this particularly is the case with Goldzine and Foxx. In these cases, it is forgivable, and clearly having Ash and Eiji show such tendencies was rather necessary. Yet there are moments where I cannot help but agree with this criticism, such as a rather unnecessary scene where Ash successfully (and comically) seduces a random security guard so he can steal his gun and escape. But again, for the era when the manga was written an overrepresentation of homosexual content was hardly a pressing problem. Further, the fact that a prominent anime is finally exploring homosexual themes while not engaging in a rape fetish like most garbage-tier yaoi, but instead critically presents sexual abuse as traumatic is to be celebrated.

As for the main plot, Banana Fish ambitiously packs a huge amount of content into its 24-episode run, launching right into the action in the very first episode. At moments it feels slightly rushed (especially the last two episodes). Further, there are scenes, background stories, and subplots I wish the series could have had time to explore in far more dept hand detail—such as Ash’s childhood, Ling’s backstory, or the culture shock Eiji must have had on a road trip across America. It also is somewhat wanting of a better explanation of what Eiji is even doing here.

Despite this, it largely is remarkably well-paced for such a short though ambitious project. After some of the most disturbing, action-packed, and climatic scenes, it will go into almost slice-of-life style episodes where little happens that allow for character development on a level rarely attained in such action-heavy crime dramas. So much of this series suggestively shows the development of relationships and dynamic character changes(especially the budding romance between Ash and Eiji) in a subdued manner rather than telling you what’s happening very bluntly and directly. These episodes are a welcome break and its development of the main characters in these episodes and scene are where it truly shines.

This is not to say, though, the main action-packed scenes are not good. They are fantastically directed, some of the best-looking fight scenes that could be hoped for. Some may find the events somewhat cyclical and repetitive, jumping from one kidnapping and escape sequence to another. For one, this is somewhat of a simplification of the events, and more importantly, each climatic sequence is sufficiently different to retain interest. If we can make it through most repetitive, drawn-out, and trope-dependent shounen fight scene arcs, this is amazing by comparison.

There are some relatively minor flaws in its writing. Most notably, a few backstories of key characters introduced later in the series are explained in a somewhat rushed manner. I would have preferred this series be about ten or so episodes longer to more thoroughly develop these characters. However, it certainly got the job done adequately. Another problem is the dialogue is sometimes clunky and awkward. At times, this is due to obvious translation errors in the subtitles (the translation of “fag” in the first episode is obviously inaccurate and off-putting even as someone who does not speak Japanese, and “I will kill whomever hurt you” is not a grammatical sentence). Other times, it is clearly the fault of the writers and just corny—such as the end of a key scene where an antagonist maniacally laughs in a cartoonish manner in episode ten. There are also moments where ill-fated attempts at humor are awkwardly thrown into otherwise serious and dark scenes. Yet, overall, the writing is heartfelt and believable, and these minor slip ups can be forgiven.

In terms of animation and directing, it is rare to see such a feast for the eyes outside of carefully crafted films by an elite few directors. There are scenes that took my breath away with how well they were executed in terms of cinematography. Zooming in on details in the background that were previously only subtly gestured towards for profound emotional effect, interesting perspectives taken in unpredictable though fitting ways, and extremely disturbing and violent scenes where little gore is shown but audio cues and off-focus camera angles let the imagination run wild all contribute to a powerful, raw, and artistic visual experience. There was fantastic attention to detail down to the labels of whiskey bottles.

The largest success in terms of animation are the character designs and especially the movement and expressions of some of the main characters. Just watch the second intro (featuring “Freedom” by Blue Encount) on YouTube, which starts with a captivating image of Ash’s pupil’s dilating, to see just how successful this series is in this respect. This is not to say the animation is perfect, there were a few incongruous moments of mediocre CGI implementation in the first two episodes (see, for an example, the Statue of Liberty shot in episode 1). However, even these were barely noticeable, and the animation improved noticeably as the series went along.

The soundtrack is as versatile as it is suitable. It mostly accompanies in a subdued manner and even remained silent in all the right places. It mixes dissonant piano melodies, jazzy hip-hop beats, and dark choral pieces into a rich audio tapestry. I did not notice it while watching it on a weekly basis, yet when I binged through the whole series in one sitting the day of the premiere of the finale it became clear that soundtrack is good. Further, the vocal performances by most of the voice actors, particularly Yuuma Uchida's portrayal of Ash, are pretty stellar. Even the choices for intro and outro songs, often integrated into key scenes, are amazing and completely fitting in both tone and lyrics.

I do not believe that I have ever personally held a series in such an overwhelmingly positive regard that seems to be largely receiving, at best, mixed or tepid reviews (at least relative to my estimation). Perhaps it’s because I approached it with such low expectations. I was expecting another mediocre shoujo/shounen-ai with half-baked crime elements but was stunned by the dark and rich world into which it immersed me. I watched each episode as it came out and was shocked by how much I liked it, then I decided to binge the whole thing in one sitting to see if really lived up to the hype I was giving it and decided it did. This truly is a series that defies any genre or box you could try to put it into. I've seen it categorized as everything from Seinen, to crime drama, to adventure, to Shounen-ai, to Shoujo. Perhaps its all of these, but really feels quite beyond all of them.

Maybe I’m just overreacting to its personally relevant and impactful twist ending (which, without spoiling anything, was one of the biggest and most surprising emotional gut-punches I’ve ever experienced). Maybe I’m just overly excited I finally found an anime with a fantastically developed homoromantic relationship. Maybe I just read too much philosophical content into it. Regardless, I can’t help but completely love this series and give it only the second perfect 10 I have ever given, despite its admitted flaws. Perhaps I will downgrade my estimation of it after some reflection. For now, though, sits second on my favorite list only behind Brotherhood.

Story: 10/10
Art: 9/10
Sound: 9/10
Character: 10/10
Enjoyability: 10/10
Overall: 10/10

Momaru Hosoda has been rather prolific in recent years, following up 2015's Boy and the Beast with his second film in three years. Mirai takes up many of the themes that were taken up in the earlier parts of his much-beloved Wolf Children: innocence in childhood and coming to terms with change. Whereas Wolf Children delivered with a well-developed, multiyear plot-driven bildungsroman, Mirai focuses on the imagination of one small boy in his backyard coming to terms with changes in his family after the birth of his newborn sister. Almost entirely within an innovatively laid-out house, we will watch little Kun learn to ride a ... horse and motorcycle with his deceased great grandfather, try to run away from home, see the entire history of his family with the future version of his sister, and get into mischief with his mother as a child. Ranging from fantastical imaginative adventures to mundanely trying to clean the house, it is easily the most slice-of-life heavy of Hosoda’s works with Kun’s imaginative episodes connecting to the small, relatable struggles we all have in childhood greatly. There is not much in the way of an overarching plot, other than overarching themes and struggles Kun is coming to turn with connecting the individual episodes.

But the lack of overarching plot is actually a true virtue of this film. Hosoda’s real accomplishment with this film is the way he has managed to ever so subtly capture those ineffable defining moments of childhood. He does so in a charming, invigorating way that really evocatively recreates the sense of wonder over the mundane that children possess. From the struggle of learning to ride the bike, to trying and failing to get recognition at seemingly unimportant times from his parents, to Kun's obsessive preoccupation with trains, the tiny events of the film are so well executed. The supporting characters, including his father who struggles along with Kun to be a stay-at-home dad, to his overworked mother, and his grandparents simultaneously play a larger-than-life role for Kun while taking a backseat to his imagination, really solidifying the childish perspective this role takes. Meanwhile, they also serve as interesting foils to Kun's own problems. The way seemingly insignificant elements of conversations from adults in the film work their way into Kun’s imagination really captures this sense perfectly.

As can be expected from Hosoda, Mirai is remarkably directed. Certain shots—such as panned tracking shots revolving around Kun as his imagination taken over, overview tracking shots of the house used to capture the expanse of the future, and first-person perspectives taken at appropriate moments as Kun focuses intensely—acting as important motifs holding the episodic nature of the film together. From an animation perspective, it is realistic in all the right places while still maintaining Hosoda’s distinctive style, and easily his best looking film to date. Every detailed movement of the characters are as charming as they are captivating. There are a few off-putting moments, the first overview of the town had a slightly distracting flicker to it that I noticed in both my viewings and the CGI-heavy (though itself decently executed) train scene felt extremely out of place from the rest of the movie. However, as a whole the animation and directing connected with the subtle, clever writing to create a fantastic atmosphere really evocatively showing rather than telling its theme.

The audio direction for the film is similarly. Imagine a slightly less whimsical version of Wolf Children soundtrack which acts more in the background and you have Mirai’s great soundtrack. Having watched both the sub and the dub, unsurprisingly the sub is better. In particular, the mother’s performance in the English dub is flat and lackluster and Kun sounds a bit too old, although the father’s voice actor was pretty perfect. However, I have few if any complaints about the acting in the original Japanese version.

However, the film did fall short in a few isolated scenes in ways predictable for Hosoda. The train scene was not just off-putting for its inappropriate CGI use, but also was overall out of place. The dialogue in Kun’s exchange with the station conductor was way too direct for a film that succeeded most when it let subtle background details do the narrative work. The whole premise felt more like it belonged in Summer Wars than Mirai. Further, while it was fitting and cute at first to have Kun trade places dog and wreck the house in his imagination, the scene dragged on for far too long and felt more like it belonged in the earlier parts of Wolf Children than Mirai.

In sum, this is easily the most enjoyable film I have seen all year. It’s just pure fun while still, in its own charming, adorable way, artistically evocative.

Story: 7/10
Art: 9/10
Sound 8/10
Character: 9/10
Enjoyment 9/10
Overall: 8/10

(Warning: This review contains some minor spoilers)

Koe no Katachi is a rather tough film to assess. A vocal minority tear apart for a lackluster plot, underdeveloped characters, and (cue Contrapoint’s social justice millennial voice) *problematic* handling of deaf characters and bullying. Others seem to see it as a beautiful, heartwarming, film which properly addresses bullying, social anxiety, suicide and depression with breathtaking animation, top-of-the notch directing, a fantastic atmosphere and perfectly subdued though great soundtrack. I honestly fall in the middle of the road between these two opinions. Given that it currently sits only behind Shinkai’s masterpiece Kimi no Na Wa as the second highest ... rated film on MAL, it is clear which side is in the majority. I will argue that this film is thematically rich and beautifully composed, yet its self-defeating execution significantly dampens its possible emotional impact. Its huge flaw is it could not decide whether to let its atmosphere emotionally captivate the audience in its substantial themes or whether to try to do so by fully developing its large cast of characters and compelling plot. Ultimately, while it is a very good film, it is rather overrated.

The first thing to address about this film is the way its basic plot progression addresses its themes. Thematically, it is extremely ambitious, perhaps too ambitious. It explores the effects of bullying in school, overcoming suicidal thoughts, social anxiety, and depression, and male/female friendships developing into romance. Some may think it took on bullying in a bit of a contrived manner, not really explaining why Shouya was so cruel and unrealistically presenting bullying as too obviously cruel. Anyone who thinks this probably had a much happier sixth grade than most. Kids are often cruel for no good reason and often do far worse things than Shouya did. The arbitrariness of Shouya’s early cruelty does not detract from its exploration of the theme.

The strongest point of thematic execution for this film was its exploration of struggle with suicide and social anxiety. Though other anime films have taken this theme on far more adeptly and with far more subtlety (eg., Colorful), this is a noble effort. The depiction of Shouya’s feeling of anxiety, such as camera angles taken off kilter when he can’t look others in the eye or a scene near the end where he starts hyperventilating in the bathroom, was extremely relatable and fantastically done. The way the film starts off with subtle shots of him seemingly doing mundane chores only to find out (rather quickly) that he was planning a suicide attempt before going to the elementary flashback was a nice touch. The way he gets over it by trying to reach out to others he earlier tried to shut out and trying to make himself a better person was heartwarming and inspiring.

Some might have come to this film, given Shoukou’s deafness, expecting it to try to take on the challenges deaf people face a main theme, but that was never the point of the film. It is mostly about Shouya’s (and other major characters’) various feelings of guilt, social anxiety, and depression, as well as exploring Shouya’s and Shoukou’s relationship. Given that it didn’t try to specifically address deafness, some prominent reviewers have claimed that it is “exploitative” of Shoukou’s disability, turning her struggles into a mere plot device and not developing her at all beyond treating her as a pitiful, innocent victim and puppy. I too won’t pretend to know what it’s like to be deaf, but (again, cue the Contrapoints voice) as someone with several hearing-impaired family members and who grew up with several deaf friends, this is a comically bad take. Seriously, the only people who would think this are those who are cartoonishly obtuse, fell asleep after the first twenty minutes of the film, or determined to demonstrate a performative exercise in procrustean self-righteousness.

Far from flatly making her deafness her sole defining trait or turning her into a shallow Mary Sue, Shoukou’s own struggles (to pardon a minor spoiler) with suicidal ideations become a major turning point later in the movie. The first twenty minutes were somewhat like this, but actually makes a ton of sense it was told from the perspective of elementary-aged Shouya who was a cruel bully and incapable of seeing anything in Shoukou beyond her deafness in the first place. After that, Shouya’s deafness becomes less important part of the plot than her depression, her interests in everyday things like feeding birds, and her relationship with Shoukou. Rather than just using her deafness to score sympathy points like one would for a helpless animal, the film instead humanizes her as struggling with the same things that Shouya struggles with. Other than when she’s being bullied early on, the film aims to do more than just make you feel bad for her but aims to develop her as a dynamic foil to Shouya. The point of this film was more on the personal struggles of the main characters than some topical social commentary on deaf people or phenomenological reconstruction of deafness (the latter of which is an unrealistic expectation of a film in the first place). If that upsets you, maybe you’re the one problematically trying to fit cinematic representations of disabled people into some predetermined box.

Speaking of Shouya’s feelings for Shoukou, this brings us to the weakest plot development and thematic point of the anime. It was extremely predictable that there would be some romance pushed in here, and I was honestly hoping it wouldn’t happen. Although they started to go down this route, it also kind of did not actually materialize. What did happen was a half-baked, contrived failed confession scene (which particularly strains credulity in the dub, though works slightly better in the sub) that kind of fizzled out. Towards the end of the film, it felt as if this was a thread that was almost forgotten and was unresolved. Overall, the romance angle did not really cohere with any of the other themes in the first place. It would have been stronger if they would have just let it develop into a strongly redeeming friendship rather than trying to awkwardly shoehorn in romance as if it is impossible for characters of the opposite gender to just be friends.

Other major weaknesses include the underdevelopment of its cast of side characters. I have not read the manga, but understand that much was cut out on this front, particularly Shoukou’s mom. It is understandable that a two-hour film adaptation of the manga has to cut out a significant portion of content, but it left in much that is completely unexplained. Beyond the main two, most of the side characters, most disappointingly Shouya’s new best friend and sister, felt extremely flat, one-dimensional, and uniform. With some of them, I am not sure what could have been done different given the time constraints and their necessity in helping develop Shouya’s plot; with others changes and cuts could have been made. For example, they could have changed Shoukou’s mother’s behavior somewhat, which was rather accidental to the main plot, if they were unable to explain why she behaves so angrily and erratically rather than leaving. Or they could have left Noaka out of the later half of the film as it felt like she was completely half-baked and unnecessary near the end. There are exceptions to this, notably Shoukou’s sister, but as a rule the side characters range from confounding to boring.

In terms of more technical aspects such as soundtrack, directing and animation, it is largely fantastic though not perfect. Kensuke Ushio’s piano-driven soundtrack was subtle, perfectly contributed to the atmosphere. A close comparison to this soundtrack would be Tenmon’s soundtracks for the early Makoto Shinkai films. The character designs are captivating for the most part with a few exceptions (notably Tomohiro), the background sets are gorgeous, and some of the camera angles taken connect with the themes of the movie. Notable scenes that display the high-quality of animation and attention to detail include the near perfect recreation of Nagashima Spa Land (which made the coaster nerd in me smile), splashing of koi fish in a pond, or the lighting effects shining on Shoukou’s empty desk when she does not show up at school.

The one problematic animating decision, which others seem to like, really is a perfect exemplar of my whole problem with this film. Amidst a directing style dedicated to subtly capturing the feelings of the scene and creating atmosphere, they decided to use X's on other people’s faces as a motif to express Shoyu’s social anxiety that would slowly fall off as he opened up to others. If the director and animators were incapable of capturing this feeling by, for example, innovative first-person off-angle camera shots directed away from the faces of others, I could forgive it and even praised it. But using subtle camera angles is exactly what they did in some of the film’s most successful scenes. Putting such an on-the-nose, obvious stylistic motif on top of already good, subtle directing decisions was contrived and almost insulting to the audience. It felt way out of place from every other stylistic choice in the anime.

That really points towards my whole problem with Koe no Katachi: it never decided whether it wanted to accomplish its thematic goals with subtle, slice-of-life elements or let its romance/redemption/friendship driven plot take over, just as the overly obvious x’s clashed with the subtle atmosphere of the film. The way it rushed towards certain plot points near the end, half-developed side characters, and tried to shoehorn in a romance story distracted from the catharsis of emotional subtle, beautifully animated atmospheric and conceptual scenes. The result of not deciding to be subtle and atmospheric or plot-heavy and character intensive was it somewhat failed at both.

At the end of the day, the basic concept of the plot was good enough to keep me engaged even when its execution was subpar, and the gorgeous animating and innovative directing did overshadow its obvious flaws. It's still an enjoyable film, and the sheer weightiness of its themes still have an emotional impact, although not as strong for me as it seemed to be for others. Is it good enough to be named the second-best anime film ever made? Probably not.

Story: 6/10
Art: 8/10
Sound: 9/10
Character: 5/10
Enjoyment: 8/10
Overall: 7/10