The cast of Violet Evergarden: the movie spend roughly twenty-five percent of the film's runtime crying. Which is good for them, given that there's a lot going on and a lot to be upset/happy/overwhelmed about, and good for us, because KyoAni animates some ridiculously beautiful tears. Nonetheless, this is something you should keep in mind going forward.
There are three narratives running at the same time in this film. We have the framing device-narrative, which makes use of a character with a one-time appearance in the original tv series; we have the narrative that follows one of Violet's clients; and then we have whatever is going
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on with Gilbert, who has come back from the dead (this is shown in the trailer so don't come after me). There are three narratives running in this film and they're all pretty sad. The framing device story and the girl it follows is so far removed from the main cast of the show (she's a returnee from one of the episodic stories in the anime) that despite what it accomplishes at the end, I fail to see why it took up as much time and space as it did. On the other hand, Violet's client of the day and his circumstances are textbook Violet Evergarden. She even acknowledges herself in the film that she has received a similar request before, whose trajectory we already saw unfold in the anime in full technicolor glory. It hits the same emotional note that almost all of the show's episodes have up until now, which, if you can guess, involve clear communication, treasuring your loved ones, and crying a lot, all of which are valid points, but have been hit so many times by now that it left me feeling like I'd just drank a lot of water and then gone for a run and then drank some more. Like: why'd I drink all this water. Who gave this to me? Why is there so much damn water in this house???
All of which is to say that if you've seen the PV and read the synopsis you know what you're here for and you're going to get it, but you're also going to get a bunch of other stuff which takes up roughly a third to half of the film's runtime and serves to add very little in terms of texture, flavor, or depth. What I mean is: the mouthfeel is disappointing. The above paragraphs are my thoughts on the story.
As for everything else- KyoAni films are well-known for being beautiful to the point of unhinging jaws and breaking windows, and this is no exception. The level of attention paid to the smallest of actions like pulling a heavy door shut, shuffling one's feet nervously, or inserting a key into a keyhole immerses, or should I say quite literally submerges the viewer in Violet's world. It's incredible and fantastical and something I think anyone who appreciates 1) Things and 2) Liquid Things should see at least once. The use of color and lighting were incredibly evocative as well, with subdued grays being contrasted with the blue of the sky, the vivid colors of Leiden, and so on. This is one hell of a film. It's an audiovisual achievement. The soundtrack speaks to that as well, with new tracks being introduced which add a layer of emotion which I can only describe as 'crunchy'. It's a wonderful soundtrack. Even if you don't watch the film, you should look it up somewhere and give it a listen.
Anyway, I'm a fan of all of the recurring characters. I think Hodgins is a funny dad figure and Benedict's heels are kickass. Above all, Violet's growth throughout the series is astronomical and a feat of voice-acting, writing, and animation, and she's a strong protagonist who carries the show gracefully even in its weaker narrative moments, which is why for my final trick I will be laying out my gripes with the main Thing this film revolves around: Gilbert (alive). Several, if not most of the episodes of the tv series revolve around accepting death, celebrating life, and moving on. Violet walks a similar path herself, slowly coming to terms with Gilbert's death until she's (presumably) able to stand on her own two feet and live for herself.
Gilbert (alive) invalidates all of this. Gilbert (alive) says that it's okay to stay unhealthily attached to a dead person for four years and let them consume you because they might, in an act of god (KyoAni), come back to life one day. I mean, yeah, I'm not going to lie, it was satisfying as hell for them to finally meet and I might have strangled a pillow or two, but what was the point of making Violet go through all of that growth, suffering, and sadness in the first place? What is this film trying to say? What about everyone else who's lost someone, both in the anime, in the movie, and in life itself? Do they get an UNO reverse card? For all intents and purposes, we do not. That's Life as we know it, and the show acknowledges it too, which is why I find it ironic that our protagonist's story is the one that gets to rewrite fate. Gilbert (alive) cheapens her suffering. He also makes her happy. Great. I guess it'll just be like this forever.
But those are personal gripes. I think this movie is pretty cool. I just don't know what it's trying to achieve other than 1) making its viewers cry a lot and 2) making its viewers cry even more, which is valid, just to be clear, just not my cup of tea. I don't drink tea. I'm more of a Gatorade kinda guy. If you've got time to kill, check it out, or don't do that, take a walk along the beach, run your bathroom faucet and watch the droplets go down the sink. That's also a kind of living. That's something that Violet Evergarden would call beautiful.
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Jul 10, 2021
Violet Evergarden Movie
(Anime)
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Mixed Feelings
The cast of Violet Evergarden: the movie spend roughly twenty-five percent of the film's runtime crying. Which is good for them, given that there's a lot going on and a lot to be upset/happy/overwhelmed about, and good for us, because KyoAni animates some ridiculously beautiful tears. Nonetheless, this is something you should keep in mind going forward.
There are three narratives running at the same time in this film. We have the framing device-narrative, which makes use of a character with a one-time appearance in the original tv series; we have the narrative that follows one of Violet's clients; and then we have whatever is going ...
Reviewer’s Rating: 6
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Jul 5, 2021 Mixed Feelings Spoiler
*this review contains spoilers
The beauty of Maquia: When the Promised Flower Blooms is that it attempts to launch multiple fireworks into the air at once, accidentally sets off its neighbor’s fire alarm, and kills someone, but if you keep your eyes fixed on that one spot in the sky where the fireworks are the brightest, you can realistically forget all about the burning building. In this analogy, the mother-child relationship that lies at the heart of this film is that one exceptionally beautiful firework. Everything else is on fire. Maquia and Ariel’s relationship is a treat to watch develop over the course of the film. It’s ... uncertain, tricky, and filled with emotional outbursts by teenagers who don’t know where to direct all their pubescent angst, things which have haunted parent-child relationships across the history of mankind itself. The film doesn’t shy away from the unpleasantries that come with parenthood. Neither does it treat Ariel, who spends a solid third of the film as a skinny brat (and later becomes a taller skinny brat), as a one-dimensional Child Character. It’s clear that they matter, not only to each other, but also to the staff behind the film. This, for me, is Maquia’s high point. That it manages to follow one (1) boy and his mother throughout most of the boy’s life, and emerges with a coherent, sympathetic narrative that speaks to the deeply human desire to love, and the equally strong fear of the loss of it. Unfortunately, There’s More. Enter Krim and Leilia, the useless royal family, Leilia’s daughter, and Izo the guard guy. I acknowledge that these characters and their stories are all, presumably, not the main focus of the story. But given that the entire film is less than two hours long, I think it’s fair to regard anything included in its brief runtime with a discerning eye. With that in mind, the film opens with Maquia’s people and their homeland being viciously invaded by the king’s men. The women are taken, their land is ripped apart, and Maquia, displaced from home, understands immediately that it’s no longer a place that she can return to. This bears a striking similarity to colonial activity in the twentieth century and earlier, but regardless, what we want to acknowledge here is the ruthlessness of it all. A greater military power waltzing unannounced into someone’s home, killing their ruler (the Elder, presumed dead), taking their women, and leaving everyone else to die. It sucks. It sucks for Maquia, Leilia, and Krim, whose stories we follow to varying degrees throughout the film. Leilia gets put up with a prince who thinks she’s a monster, has his kid, isn’t allowed to meet said kid, and finally loses the prince’s acknowledgment, the one thing that brought her to the castle. Maquia picks up a kid. Krim tries to save Leilia, fails, tries again, fails again, and joins up with a neighboring kingdom. To put it more bluntly, he is radicalized. The difference between a revolutionary and a rebel lies in the nature of the current government itself, and here, I believe it’s quite clearly established that the existing government is shit. The king is a spineless brute who keeps women, mythical creatures, and mythical women locked up in a cage. His son is no better. When the enemy strikes, both of them run, and they leave their child behind. Even before that, they destroy a people, kidnap and impregnate a woman against her will, and prevent her from meeting with that child. It seems to me that this particular monarchy possesses no merit whatsoever. Regardless of how sweet the prince might have been (he isn’t), the Iorph have every reason to hate him. And yet Krim is reduced to the archetypical ‘I got so fixated on revenge I lost sight of what truly mattered’ character who, unable to bear the thought of the love of his life caring about her only connection with the world for years and years, tries to kill her. And is killed by the head of the king’s guard. Who saves Leilia. And who has also kept Leilia locked up for years, and years, and years, and done nothing to help her. At a glance, this is what Maquia: When the Promised Flower Blooms seems to be saying: if someone destroys everything you’ve ever had, you’re not allowed to hate them because that would make you the bad guy. In spite of everything someone might have done to make you miserable for decades, they actually want the best for you. Loyalty to the king is a great thing, even if that king’s a piece of shit. So I take issue with all of the above, for reasons that I hope are obvious. Presented with an interesting premise full of potentially complex characters, Maquia went for the black and white morality angle and reduced everything to a zero-sum problem because it wanted to talk about Maquia and Ariel’s relationship which, again, is quite a stunning piece of character work, so my question is: why try to talk about everything else to begin with? Why not do one thing well, and flesh out the characters more while you’re at it, because if asked to describe the cast of this film I’d say that everyone tries their best and cares a lot and really, that’s about it. Time devoted to a clown of a king and the invasion of a kingdom which I as a viewer had no sympathy for could have been spent on little moments between Maquia and the rest of the cast. Why did Ariel fight for this king? Is the only way to protect the ones you love by working within a corrupt system? Do all rebels and revolutionaries deserve to die? The above are my grievances with this story. Those aside, this film is literally beautiful. The lighting, background work, and color palettes are a mirror’s reflection of the tone at any given point, the soundtrack is lovely, and the voice actors are marvelous. If you’re looking to kill time and you happen to like cool colors, I can confidently present you with this movie. But as far as thoughtful commentaries on the complexities of life, society, et cetera go, I’d like to gently place my hands on your shoulders as does a parent to their child, and steer you in another direction. 6/10
Reviewer’s Rating: 6
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Jun 16, 2021
Cheese in the Trap Season 4
(Manga)
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Cheese in the Trap is the bowl of confusing, underwhelming, and unevenly-seasoned noodles you buy on a whim one evening after class and force yourself to finish because you did pay for it after all, even if it was only a few dollars, only to discover that all of the seasoning had gathered at the bottom of the bowl and that said seasoning is Actually Very Good even though there are maybe three noodle strands left in your bowl and not much left to do with it, and to leave the restaurant feeling inexplicably happy.
In Cheese in the Trap, if it can be misread, it ... will be misread. If it can be misunderstood, it will be misunderstood. And if a woman and a man have a conversation with each other, they are in Love and it is everyone’s problem. The ratio of Named Characters Who Are Not A-holes to Named Characters Who Are A-holes is something like 1:7 and stays that way until the very end, and though most, if not all, of our protagonist’s harassers received holy retribution, the question that I left each bloody finale with was: what was the point of taking things so far? Several characters were established as freeloaders/gossips/stalkers/creeps fairly early on in the story. Most followed the same pattern. Offense —> telling-off —> offense —> telling-off —> offense —> telling-off —> offense —> everyone gets bored and stops paying attention to them. Prolonged suffering can be narratively interesting. But most of the suffering in Cheese in the Trap seemed to be for suffering’s sake. Things escalated until Seol, Jung, or someone else hit a breaking point. Is Cheese in the Trap a manhwa about breaking points? I think not. In other news, this manhwa features a bit of the classic ‘rich, popular dude meets poor, overworked girl’ scenario plus a healthy serving of interpersonal drama. While acknowledging that romcoms tend to be a form of escapism, the focus on what actions the individual can take instead of any influences or pressures on/from society still seemed like a missed opportunity. Being rich is presented as one of two things: a blessing or something that leads to emotional stunting and isolation from your peers. In this framework, Jung’s family can be seen as the personification of financial power. We are shown Jung’s suffering, his hurt, and his frustration, all of which was depicted in a harrowing, raw show of emotion, i.e. Jung’s life is hard because his family is too rich. However, Seol’s suffering, hurt, and frustration can all be chalked up to being too sensitive, too much of a workaholic, or too prone to anxiety, and she finds her peace in learning to relax into her circumstances and embrace the ups and downs. It does not seem to have occurred to the author that Seol’s life might also be hard because her family is too poor. The distribution of sympathy seems off-balance. The numerous hits to my moral compass aside the real reason I decided to write this review is that in spite of all my complaints (see above), I really liked this story. The author spent essentially three quarters of the story creating a cast of complete trainwrecks who all wanted to see each other rot in hell. If you create a mess you have to deal with it. And against all odds, the author Dealt with it. They reconciled the unreconcilable. They rescued the dead and the abandoned. And they did so with remarkable efficiency, optimism, and style. The revelations that lie at the end of this long, winding path hit me like a gorilla-sized brick in the face and entirely compensated for the pain of watching one particular red-haired clown clown his way through half of the serialization. There were some stellar moments of character development and, that’s right, Communication, and in some ways I think it was being made to suffer through hundreds of chapters of contrived misunderstandings and bad-faith arguments that made clarity so sweet. One line in particular, which I think taken out of context shouldn’t spoil that much, made me sit back in my chair and stare blankly out the window for ten minutes. “I have nothing to give”. Said while sitting on the living room floor, eyes dark, hands empty. General thoughts! A lot of romance-oriented manga/manhwa/etc has ‘stiff’ artwork and characters that only smile like L’oreal models. Cheese in the Trap’s art style is to die for. If there’s one thing I will vouch for from start to finish, it’s that. Oh, and Seol, whose character development and general attitude towards life is still incredibly inspiring despite the broader social narrative that was lacking. I also acknowledge that alongside the cast of clowns, there are also some gems, some clowns who become gems, and some characters that you’ll want to sit down and drink coffee and cry/fight/commit arson with. It’s surprisingly pessimistic, but it’s also surprisingly optimistic. So ultimately, is it worth it? I binged the entire thing in four days and don’t feel like I’ve lost too much time I’d want to bargain with god to get back. To summarize, personally: pros: artwork, characters, authentic slowburn romance cons: malice-fueled conflict that might make you tear your hair out, characters, weirdly simplistic and also nuanced worldview, an inconsistent moral compass Cheese in the Trap is, if nothing else, honest. It says what it wants to say. Is it necessarily true? Are your ears bleeding? Yes. But damn if you don’t want to stay for just one more minute, and see where the tides of Accounting and Business Marketing take our cast of four next. 7/10
Reviewer’s Rating: 7
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Dec 23, 2016
Yuri!!! on Ice
(Anime)
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Yuri!!! on Ice is a sports anime. That’s what it’s listed as, that’s what it was first promoted as, and it’s how I would believe the series creators wish it to be seen. But Yuri!!! on Ice is so much more than just a sports anime. If you’ve been anywhere around the anime crowd online (or even out of it, sometimes) in the past twelve weeks, then you’ve probably heard about the “gay figure skating anime” of the season.
The biggest question I’ve seen around is, “what’s so good about it?” It’s just gay. It’s just pandering to fans. It’s just this, just that. So it’s ... a lot of things. Here are some of them. (NOTE: no massive spoilers but the nature of the relationship between Viktor and Yuuri does get touched on briefly.) STORY: (for a summary of points skip to TL;DR) Yuri on Ice features a plot that is, to me, fresh and unique for a series about sports. From the get-go what sets it apart from your typical sports anime is clear. To start with, our main cast is not in high school. Although one character in the trio is a teenager (he’s 15, to be precise), the main focus is on our protagonist and his coach, who are 23 and 27 respectively. Having mature, full-grown adults lead the narrative means that there are a lot of stereotypical conflicts that can be avoided, and it gives the show a different flavor. There’s no “what to do after graduation” or “my favorite senior is leaving” subplot, no “we’re young and stupid and we’ll do anything to win” motivating factor- the tone of the series is a lot more realistic and the story itself is grounded by it. The other distinguishing factor is, our main character isn’t inexperienced or “bad” at his sport. Despite what his personal narration might have us believe, he’s essentially Japan’s ace in figure skating, and talented enough to make it to the world Grand Prix final by himself. He’s not learning figure skating over from scratch - he’s learning what he loves about it, and why he skates. Moving on to the matter of the plot, we’re given a scenario where someone has fallen out of the spotlight, hit a road bump in the journey of life. Katsuki Yuuri is 23 and good at what he does but he’s missing something. He’s not confident. Yuri on Ice is about how he finds that something, finds the will and wish to keep fighting. In that way, it’s the best kind of “motivational story”, the sort that says you don’t just have one shot at life when you’re a teenager and ready to Take On The World, that says you can turn things around at any time. Yuri on Ice encompasses various themes, such as love (in all its shapes and forms) and life (how to live it, how to love it). It also embodies key messages which I think are highly relevant to our modern world, such as how life doesn’t end after you pass your teen years and hit your twenties, or that you are more than your fears and anxieties. There’s always a second chance. In that way this series carries a message that is sure to instill in its viewers some hope for themselves. It’s riveting, optimistic, and endearing, while maintaining a mature, fairly objective perspective. In terms of actual plot there’s not much I can say for fear of ruining the story, but one thing I have to commend is how a certain reveal in the later half of the series becomes a massive plot point that changes our perception of one very special main character. This isn’t a story that’s predictable by any means. Just like Viktor Nikiforov, who lives to surprise his audience, it seems Kubo (the series’ original creator), too, loves taking her viewers by surprise. Yuri on Ice is unpredictable up until the very last moment, and that makes it an exciting experience for first-time viewers. And while unpredictable, it also makes heavy use of foreshadowing to drop plot points and details that might confuse you at first, but all make sense when given context in later episodes. Rewatching the series is another experience in itself because you do it in an almost entirely different light. But I haven’t addressed the elephant in the room yet, have I? Yuri on Ice is gay. Yes. It’s gay as hell but it’s also subtly gay, quietly gay, it’s gay without it being the main point of the story, it’s gay but not once does it allow the queerness of its characters to define itself. You’re given a romance between two males that isn’t fetishized, exploited, mistreated. It’s a romance that’s written with respect, and I have to commend Kubo for that. There is a turning point near the middle of the series that really spells things out for you, and after that every interaction between the two characters involved is painted with love, care, and adoration. The nature of their relationship is never outright stated in-series, yet it’s clear as day how they feel for each other. (Bonus: Kubo herself stated indirectly through a tweet on her official twitter account that Yuri on Ice is, basically, a world without homophobia. The love portrayed here is organic, normalized, and treated with respect. It’s a beautiful thing.) Which brings me to another point about the storytelling in Yuri on Jce. If you grew up used to western media and their habit of favoring straightforwardness over subtlety, then Yuri on Ice might strike you as funny. They never say they’re in love! So who’s to say they really are? That argument could be valid in a show produced in the west, but Yuri on Ice is a piece of eastern media. Subtlety is the name of the game here. But fear not, it still delivers when we need it to, and the little quirks and affectionate interactions it divulges are priceless and wonderful. On the whole, the pacing for the series may seem a bit fast at times, but given that it’s a one-cour series with such high ambitions I think it’s to be expected. Perhaps with more episodes we could’ve had more time to develop our side characters. Perhaps with more episodes we could have more scenes off the ice. But MAPPA wasn’t given that liberty, and I think they made the best of what they had. Apart from slight pacing issues I think Yuri on Ice’s story is brilliantly constructed, unique, and heartfelt. It’s imbued with positivity without being cheesy or overbearing, and remains mostly grounded in reality. While the story is mostly serious, it gives us moments of pure comedic gold at times and manages to jump from one atmospheric moment to another without much of a problem. Watching every episode is an emotional rollercoaster - the best kind where you don’t fall off and the loops don’t make you feel sick but give you a nice, heady rush. Yuri on Ice is a narrative that manages to be completely sound, utilize foreshadowing effectively, and draw parallels between moments in older episodes and newer ones. The ending, without spoiling anything, manages to be completely satisfying while thoroughly offensive at the same time because of how good it is. Everything comes full circle. It does everything in the book of Good Narratives right. It’s an alarming feat for a one-cour original anime series. TL;DR Yuri on Ice is a sports anime that transcends the boundaries of sports anime with a unique new narrative and organic, character-driven conflict. It balances out comedy and serious moments with careful maneuvering of scenes and plot points, and features a gay romance that doesn’t override the main narrative but rather becomes part of it. The themes of the series are uplifting, meaningful, and carefully woven into its plot. Overall, it’s very well-written and definitely worthy of a 10 in my eyes. ART: Yuri on Ice’s animation in episode 1 is probably one of the most gorgeous things I’ve ever laid my eyes on. Of course, that’s because it’s the first episode, but we can, for the most part, apply that notion to every frame after that for the next 11 episodes. I’m going to address the art and animation in Yuri on Ice in two separate categories: general art and animation, and skating art and animation. First, as Yuri on Ice is an ice skating anime, naturally a lot of screentime is devoted to elaborate skating choreography and routines. Stay Close To Me is easily the best-animated, and if you’re looking for something that properly represents what Yuri on Ice as an aesthetic piece of art is, then that performance in episode 1 is definitely the way to go. However, the quality of skating segments does falter sometimes as the series continues. But wait! Yuri on Ice isn’t a Dreamworks Animation production with a USD 160,000,000 production budget. In fact, it’s got a budget of perhaps USD 1,500,000, which is straight up 1% of what western blockbuster animation movies get. Now, add on the fact that figure skating is a sport where you’re constantly moving, where you’re basically dancing on ice - there’s a lot more nuance the animators had to capture in their animation than, say, a jump for a smash-hit in badminton or a dash across the court in basketball. So the characters may have been off-model at times, so the camera pans might have come off as flat after a while- trust me when I tell you that Yuri on Ice delivers where it really, really needs to. It delivers. Moving on, let’s talk about general animation. Off the ice, the characters are generally well-animated and detail is given where it’s needed. The series also plays with a lot of different lightings, using contrasting cool and warm color palettes generously to dictate the feel of a particular scene. Due attention is given to close-ups; you can always tell when a scene is important because of the sheer amount of effort that goes into animating every minute detail. And it’s not just generic detailing, you can tell they’ve really thought things through and settled on what they want to emphasize in certain scenes. It’s the little things, like the tremble of a hand, the glint of metal, the soft shine and faint pink tinge of lips in motion, that tell you that these animators care about what they’re creating. Yuri on Ice is a series animated with love. I’m giving it a 9 in this category. SOUND: The soundtrack of Yuri on ice is great. It features a wild array of instruments, music genres, and styles. I'm not an expert in music, but considering they had to have upwards of twenty, thirty individual songs made for the routines alone, each one is pretty well produced. If you include the simple, lilting piano OSTs that play during emotional scenes, then you're good to go on a trip that will bring you to tears. Either way, you're bound to end up with a favorite or two at the end of it all. That aside, for the sound effects that came from skating they recorded the sound of the choreographer they worked with’s skating, so each scrape of the blade on ice, each sharp thud with a land, all of these are almost frightfully real. The tight sound effects and wonderful OSTs, combined with tasteful timing and appropriate music choices, add to the immersive experience of watching Yuri on ice. Sound gets a 10 from me. CHARACTER: See: Katsuki Yuuri. 10/10. —is what I’d like to say, but I’m obligated to go in-depth into things, so I'll do that. The characters in Yuri on Ice may seem like cookie-cutter models at first, but as the story unfolds you learn more and more about their personalities and motivations, and (cliche though it sounds) they really will surprise you. Particularly Katsuki Yuuri, who is, I would venture to say, the most well-developed, realistic, and sympathetic character I’ve seen in recent years. Don’t let his weak narration in episode 1 fool you - you’re in for a wild ride with him as the protagonist of the series. While its characters have their fair share of strengths and flaws, Kubo takes it a step beyond so as to hint at what exactly led them to be the way they are today. Everything is deceptively simple on the surface and deep as Mariana’s Trench when you look closer. I think what really makes these characters work is that they’re genuine. They’re real. Katsuki Yuuri may have anxiety, but he hates losing. He’s headstrong. He’s bad at dealing with fans. Viktor Nikiforov may have lost his way in life but he’s still fighting, he’ll still do things on a whim and try his hand at everything and anything. He has a dog. The dog is his best friend. He took the dog with him when he leaves on that whim. Our main cast is lovable, but the side characters, too, get far more development than you would expect from a one-cour anime. Yuri on Ice treats every character with respect, with love, as though each one deserves all the time on screen in the world (though they don’t get it). Being an anime about the international figure skating scene, we’re introduced to a lot of characters from different countries. None of them fall into the pitfalls of stereotyping by nationality, thankfully, and they’re all lovable and have their own quirks and personalities. When the series hits its peak, we also learn that they have their own motivations for winning. You can tell that Kubo hasn’t slacked on anything, not even with writing so-called minor characters. Of course, when we put this all together, the dynamic between everyone is sometimes hilarious, sometimes heartwarming. Yuri on Ice succeeds here by making the rivalries between everyone friendly rather than toxic. There’s no murderous subplot or decade-long grudge hiding under some amicable smile. They’re just a bunch of teens, young adults, adults, that want to win, but want to stay friends through it all. The consistently supportive atmosphere means things almost never turn sour between anyone (though for story’s sake we do get to see some conflict break out between our main cast), and we can enjoy the series the way it is without unnecessary drama or conflict. To put it one way, Yuri on Ice has no antagonist, but it still manages itself so well because Katsuki Yuuri is his own antagonist. He is his biggest hurdle. He is what’s holding him back. And a lot of conflict stems from how he views himself and those around him, which is not only a very organic way to create character-based conflict, but also painful to watch, because Yuuri is painfully relatable to almost everyone. He’s an incredible character, and the growth he sustains throughout these twelve episodes is awe-inspiring. Of course, not forgetting our world champion Viktor Nikiforov! He’s the hot foreigner who is s whimsical and smooth and, well, hot. But he’s a lot more than just hot, as the story eventually reveals. Viktor’s growth is shown in a more quiet, subtle way than Yuuri’s, but it still happens, and the landmarks for it are Big. He’s also another breaker of anime character molds, though because his growth is tied into the narrative I can’t say much on the specifics. In short, Yuri on Ice’s characters are genuine, relatable, and crafted with love and care. While being a diverse group of people, they avoid both racial and general anime stereotypes, and for the main cast great care is put into the development of their multi-faceted persons. These are not flat characters, they are the sum of their experiences and memories and imperfections. Also, Katsuki Yuuri should win an award. Some kind of award. Anything’s good. So, a 10 here, too. ENJOYMENT: I have not followed an anime week-by-week through its airing season since Kekkai Sensen happened, and even then sometimes I forgot that the subs were out and would watch it two or three days later. Every night for ten weeks now I have stayed up until 4 a.m. to catch the live broadcast of Yuri!!! On ICE. It’s ridiculous how much this show has affected me. It’s made my life 300 times better and ruined me. To see a world where homophobia doesn’t exist, where mental illness is treated as something normal, and not a weakness, is something I never thought I’d see in an anime in my life. Kubo Mitsurou is a blessing to the world. How could I give this anything but a full 10/10? I’d be lying if I cut the score any lower than that. (BONUS- messages Yuri on Ice carries with it because I’m a sap: -you are more than your mental illness -your failures do not define you -it’s never too late to pursue your dreams and turn things around, whether you’re 15, 25, or 50 -love does not complete you. It makes you a better whole -true love exists -there is a place you can’t reach unless you have a dream too large to bear alone) OVERALL: Yuri on Ice’s opening theme, History Maker, is a more accurate summary of the series than I could ever come up with myself. It’s really made history, in so many ways that I couldn’t possibly list them all at once. It’s taken what might be considered a niche sport and turned it into something wonderful and beautiful and, importantly enough, possible to appreciate for a bunch of anime-watching folks that probably were just looking for a good time. This is a review, but it’s also a request. If you’re here, on this page, reading this right now, and you’re sitting on the fence with the spikes digging into your butt, wondering, “should I watch Yuri on Ice?” then I implore you with all my heart to give it a chance. It’s so much more than what the horrible people who call it shameless pandering and fanservice will ever be able to understand. The reviews here are not an accurate reflection of how the fans of Yuri on Ice feel about the series as a whole, and I am willing to bet majority of those who laughed at it for being “yaoi” have seen exactly three and a half seconds of the first episode. This series is a work of art. It saved 2016. See, Yuri on Ice is that best friend you never knew you had. You’ve been looking for them all along, you just never knew it. 10/10
Reviewer’s Rating: 10
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