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(This review applies to both the manga and anime. Anime-only stuff like animation and music are not accounted for.)

Short version: One Piece is not for me. I can see why people love it. If you love OP, good. That means you found something worthwhile that I couldn’t. Don’t let my opinion interfere with your enjoyment. My not being a fan of OP is not a personal attack against you. You do you. I am only writing this to elaborate to fans why some of us remain skeptical of OP, even after giving it a go.

Long version: Shounen action. Battle Shounen. Or just plain “Shounen” to ... many Western anime fans. Whatever you call it, fantastical action-adventure series originating from comic magazines for young males (shounen manga) is by far the most popular genre of Japanese popular culture in the West. For most Westerners, shounen action is all that anime is. Outside of Akira, Cowboy Bebop and Death Note (the last of which being from Shounen Jump, LOL), about 90 percent of anime fans I know IRL only, only, ONLY watch/read shounen action properties. And this isn’t just kids; people my age and those middle-aged also only, only, ONLY watch/read shounen action series. Every now and again, you might find someone who’s watched Spirited Away, but it cannot be overstated just how everywhere shounen action is. A lot of anime shows I’ve heard described as “Popular”, such as Haruhi Suzumiya, Re:Zero, Gurren Lagann, Angel Beats, Hellsing and Madoka Magica, may as well not exist to most anime fans I know in person.

For SOME anime fans, this is a bad thing. To certain members of “geek” culture, it is a sin to say “OMG! I. Love. Anime. So. MUUUUCH!” And to only, only, ONLY watch DBZ and Naruto. I am not one of those people. There are some shounen action properties I love. Remember my old review of Fullmetal Alchemist? That’s one example right there. However, if you were to ask me of a long-running action series to recommend, One Piece is not one of them.

OP is a shounen action series from Weekly Shounen Jump. It needs no introduction. It being the best-selling manga/graphic novel series of all time should make that evident enough. It’s a manga that has remained in production since 1997, with an anime that has remained in production since 1999. It is a phenomenon. It’s more popular in some countries than others, but anyone even vaguely knowledgeable of anime has at least heard of OP.

This is a tale of pirates, those who choose not to bind themselves to the rule of law, explorers, con artists, scalawags, warriors of virtue, cooks, and other assorted individuals. It’s a world where everyone is trying to claim the greatest treasure buried by the greatest pirate of all time. OP follows Luffy, the leader of the Straw Hat Pirates, a wandering troupe of lost souls out to find the One Piece. OP’s author, Eiichiro Oda, designed the series to be the sort of manga he would’ve wanted to read as a kid. You can certainly see a lot of imagination behind it. My quick summary makes it sound intriguing. You can see why there are legions of fans.

There are also legions of people who gave up on OP like me. There are legions who will never try it out. I’m not alone. I got friends with zero interest in OP. And I have not one, but two friends who dropped OP like me. Our reasons slightly differ, but they all stem from the same issue of the fact that OP never ends.

The story of OP has run longer than the Fate franchise. It’s lightyears longer than anything Tolkien ever put out. The tax codes for the state of California are a brief afterthought compared to OP. I found a YouTube video that attempted to summarize all of OP. It was 6 hours long! 6! Now, does being long necessarily mean it’s not good? Of course not. My Hero Academia is over a hundred episodes in length, and it’s the best quote-on-quote “shounen” I’ve seen since FMA Brotherhood. The problem is OP doesn’t really do a whole lot with its infinite length.

Something I’ve learned throughout my life is memory tends to remember the most impactful moments. As you age, you forget things and moments that weren’t majorly impactful. This is a blessing and a curse, for while your most cherished memories will stay beside you, your most painful memories will, too. I brought up the concept of memory because, One Piece, for all the content it has, didn’t leave much impact on my memory. It doesn’t really do much to differentiate itself from similar series. Progress, if you can call it that, is borderline non-existent. I can’t remember any great lesson the show gave out, no scene that really stood out in my mind. All I remember are character flashbacks and outlandish fight scenes.

Speaking of memories, do you remember my review of Cowboy Bebop? I caught a LOT of flak for that back in the day, because I “only” gave it a 6, and didn’t fill my review with words like, “hype” “GOAT” “timeless” and “iconic.” Despite my many issues with CB, I still found it more enjoyable than OP. Let me repeat that, even though I found about 80 percent of CB cliched and aimless, I would still take that, warts and all, over OP any day. At least CB had the courtesy to end, the courtesy to at least let stuff happen in its runtime, stuff that shifted the status quo.

Now that I’ve brought up OP’s lack of narrative progress, allow me to describe a typical scenario, just to give you an idea of its status quo. The Straw Hats arrive at a new island. The island’s citizens are being terrorized by a pirate/corrupt official/some other sort of villain. The Straw Hats fight this villain. They win. They leave the island, only to end up doing the same thing on a different island over and over. They come, they fight, they leave. They come, they fight, they leave. They come, they fight, they leave. They come, they fight, they leave. Now do you understand why I, of all people, wanna watch CB again?

My first friend who gave up on OP, lasting for at least a few hundred episodes, much longer than me, dropped OP for this reason, the fact that this, like some other shounen action series, becomes nonstop fighting. Too much fighting, not enough anything else. This is not to say you can’t EVER have tons of battles. Perhaps the series could do a commentary on the constant pirate warfare going on: does the nonstop violence eventually exact a toll on the psyches of the Straw Hats? Is the series saying something about a society that solves ALL its problems through combat? No and no. You’re not getting anything like that. OP is not a work of fiction, but more a series of wrestling matches done in a fantastical manner. Beyond a few character backstories and a few memorable (if simplistic) villains, there is no meaning beyond the video game levels of metahuman fighting. Watching Luffy win battle after battle is no different from watching a pro Street Fighter player level opponent after opponent. Might be exciting the first few times, but there’s nothing offered beyond that. It was my friend’s reason for giving up, and it was one of my reasons, too.

My other friend who dropped OP, lasting about 500 or so episodes, was also because of the fighting, but not the nonstop nature of it. Rather, they lost interest because OP commits another common sin of shounen action; the fights and power system become too crazy. It’s the same reason I don’t watch the later parts of JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure, and one reason I dropped Naruto and Bleach back in the day. Now, I only saw the first 40 or so episodes. The action scenes didn’t have this problem, and in fact, it was kind of fun to see the Straw Hats use their unique talents to win. Nonetheless, I did do some research on the Fandom page for OP (never a good sign when I don’t care for spoilers when writing about something) and can confirm the following: If you thought Dragon Ball Super’s power system was convoluted, then don’t read or watch the later portions of OP! It reminds me of a quote from a movie I saw as a kid, “Your scientists were so preoccupied with whether or not they could that they didn't stop to think if they should.” (5 sequels, and none of them rival the original Jurassic Park.) To its credit, OP doesn’t start off a victim of power creep, but it eventually falls into that trap, should you attempt to marathon the series.

Another knock is the characterization. It’s nothing special. Luffy is the sort to fight first, ask questions never. Sanji loves to hit on women. Nami is greedy. Usopp is a coward, except when the chips are down. Surface level stuff. With that said, there was one Straw Hat I liked, Zorro. Maybe it’s just because he lives by a code similar to the samurai, but I found his backstory and his code of honor intriguing. Beyond that, he’s largely just a macho warrior who can fight with three swords, but he stood out for me. The other standout was the villains. Being a children’s franchise, the villains are very obviously evil, but that’s part of OP’s appeal, to not only see grandiose examples of diabolical lowlifes, but to also see the heroes knock the villains down a peg. Since I didn’t get very far in the show, I don’t know any of the other major characters. Not great, but could be worse.

I give this franchise a 5 because while I don’t like OP, I don’t despise it. It’s not pro-fascist and cynically manipulative like Mahouka. It’s not annoying and insultingly stupid like Kill La Kill. It’s not chock full of contrivances like Code Geass. It’s not offensive like a good number of American sitcoms. It’s not amateurish like RWBY. Its attempts at humor aren’t as painfully unfunny as Slayers’ attempts at humor. It’s not overly random like Fooly Cooly. One Piece excels by not committing some of the biggest mistakes of some of its contemporaries. But ask yourself, in a world where Fullmetal Alchemist, My Hero Academia and Re:Zero exist and can be watched for free online, is “not being insultingly stupid” good enough?

Oh yeah, almost forgot, the artwork. I feel the same way about the art. I neither like nor dislike it. Many people have avoided OP because of the art. I should criticize them for being shallow, but they are lucky. OP’s art is cartoony, yes. Everyone has the same sort of smile with the massive teeth. Again, it excels when compared to the moeblobs of recent light novels adaptations, but I also find it rather simplistic when compared to many other shounen action series. I will point out that I spared myself the embarrassment of the female designs post-timeskip since I dropped OP so early. This might just be the grounded realist in me, but I don’t find female character designs that are 100% bust curvature and 0% everything else to be particularly charming. Sad to see it shares a flaw with Bleach in this regard.

So to hardcore fans of OP, like I said in the start, you keep doing you. I just wanted to tell you that some of us tried. Some of us tried for hundreds of episodes and chapters. Some of us tried for years. I tried for about 40 episodes, alternating between sub and dub. But the simple truth is, nothing is universal. Some people don’t like shounen action in general. Some like me prefer the shounen denomination known as The First Church of Deku. Some people simply can’t commit to a single work of art that has taken nearly 30 years to complete with no apparent end in sight. For some people, that is a strength. For others, it’s too much. Whatever the case, I think we can all agree that it’s remarkable that OP has run for as long as it has. I do respect Oda and Toei for being able to maintain one series this long, because to do so is nothing short of Herculean. Nonetheless, one person’s trash is another person’s buried treasure, and while OP has its strengths, I can’t call myself a fan.

Two and a half years after the 12 episode series Madoka Magica took Japanese pop culture by storm, a movie sequel debuted. While the Madoka TV series is largely beloved, Rebellion is, to this day, divisive. I saw Rebellion back in the day and found it just as good as the TV series and recap movies it followed. I saw no point in writing a review then since my thoughts were, “If you like the first Madoka, you’ll like this.” I see now that was a mistake on my part. In my last review on MAL, I told readers to ignore the haters of Higurashi ... Gou and Sotsu, and that they should watch them if they were interested. Today, I’m here to tell you that if you’ve seen the Madoka TV series/recap movies but not Rebellion because someone told you not to, I’m gonna convince you otherwise.

If you thought the ending of the TV series was perfect, that there was no way Magica Quartet could possibly follow it up, well, they found a way. Nothing really ends, after all. When wars end, conflict remains. Life goes on even after a natural disaster destroys an entire town. And when magical girls are involved, something important is always at stake. (I’ll go into more detail later in the review.)

A big difference between the TV series and Rebellion is the art department. In short, it is stunning. As far as technical achievements go, this is Akiyuki Shinbou’s magnum opus. Nothing of his, aside from maybe the Kizumonogatari movies, comes remotely close to the artistry, fluidity, choreography, editing, cinematography, coloring, and composition of light and shadow on display here. Years ago, I once described Shinbou as the anime equivalent of the Hollywood director Wes Anderson. Both have idiosyncratic tricks that are instantly recognizable. Wes Anderson has his flat space camera motions and parts for Bill Murray. Akiyuki Shinbou has his constant camera cutaways and parts for Chiwa Saitou. Of course, if push comes to shove, I will admit to liking Wes Anderson more, if only because The Grand Budapest Hotel is, in my opinion, the best movie of the last decade. However, when Shinbou is at his absolute best, he can rival Anderson’s technical mastery of cinematic expression. A lot of praise goes to the screenwriter Gen Urobuchi, and indeed, the Madoka franchise remains my favorite of the Butcher’s works, but Shinbou is just as important to the success of the series, and that is most evident here in Rebellion. If nothing else, the old joke that Rebellion is the greatest shampoo commercial ever is still true, as I can’t imagine anyone else overseeing such gorgeous hair movements for Homura and Kyouko.

Also returning is Gekidan Inu Curry, responsible for the creepy, bizarre designs that appear in the labyrinths of the witches. Curry’s art is hard to describe without images. I can say the designs of Curry are greater and more varied in Rebellion, giving the film a dreamlike quality, provided the dream in question came straight from the mind of Tim Burton. I love it.

The music is once again provided by Yuki Kajiura, Claris, and Kalafina. Kajiura in particular has become quite possibly the most beloved Japanese soundtrack composer since Nobuo Uematsu in the last decade or so. I’m happy to say that her work on the Madoka franchise, Rebellion included, remains, in my opinion, my favorite work of hers. If I’m being honest, I don’t consider Kajiura to be in the same league as Uematsu, Joe Hisaishi, Yoko Kanno and Hirano Yoshihisa, as I find most of her non-Madoka works lackluster in comparison. Having said that, Kajiura’s music adds to the eerie dark atmosphere Madoka Magica is known for, and that’s also evident here in Rebellion. I wouldn’t have it any other way, and I say this as someone who finds the music of Sword Art Online over-estimated.

I’ve seen Rebellion in both Japanese and English. Both are incredible. Every character sounds like how you would imagine them to, and the voice cast is able to draw out a great deal of personality from their roles in both languages. Which version to watch really comes down to personal preference. I like Mami’s English voice more, while I like Kyouko’s Japanese voice more. Either way, the way the characters talk has no defects. That’s always appreciated in a work where dialog is important.

But before I continue, I’m going to break a tradition of mine. I’m going to print spoilers. Yes, I made this review because there is something about Rebellion I want to address. To do so, I must give away both secrets from the TV series AND Rebellion. For those of you who are now interested in watching Rebellion for the first time, thank you for reading. You can find the movie on YouTube and Amazon if you live in the US like me. For those of you who want to know my thoughts on the plot and characters, or if you’ll incredibly foolhardy and want to read my thoughts on a show about children with phenomenal cosmic powers, I’ll see you after the next ten paragraph breaks.









The reason Rebellion is so controversial is because of its ending. The TV series/recap movies ended with Madoka trading in her existence to end the cycle of witches being born from the despair of magical girls. It was heartbreaking and beautiful, and it was set to Sagitta Luminis, my favorite composition by Kajiura. Many people love it. I love it. Rebellion, on the other hand, ends with Homura rewriting reality to ensure that Madoka and other magical girls can lead normal lives, even if they don’t want that, as well as protecting Madoka from the exploitation of the Incubators.

I know not everyone loved the TV series. However, most people I know who watched it like it very much. They didn’t mind the fact that it was basically a super serious remake of Sailor Moon. And yet, I’m still puzzled. To the anti-Rebellion crowd, riddle me this: An orphan being killed by a Hallmark drawing? Fine. An energetic girl undergoing a mental breakdown over not being able to love a boy she likes? Fine. That same orphan trying to start a one-woman war against magical girls and nearly succeeding? Fine. A girl whose family died because of her good intentions, became ruthless, then learned compassion because of the lovesick girl’s trauma, only to then give her life to ease a friend’s suffering? Fine. An innocent child coping with a lifetime’s worth of PTSD from seeing her friends die over and over? Fine. Another innocent girl sacrificing her life because she thinks she’s worthless otherwise? Fine. But that same girl dealing with a century’s worth of trauma protecting the one thing that kept her going through everything? Oh no, not our precious Homerun-chan! Not our badass time traveler with perfect hair!

Let me ask you something: did you watch the same series I did? What did you think was gonna happen? Homura erases the Incubators from the timeline? That can’t happen, as like Kyubey said in the TV series, if his people never came to Earth, the human race would still be living in caves. (Now there’s a depressing thought; our advancements were all courtesy of Lovecraftian horror shows.) And did you really think that children burdened with feeding on the souls of zombie children were gonna be like, “Oh yeah! I don’t need to see a therapist! I got this!” And that these same children, none of whom over the age of 15, would act responsibly with powers no normal human has? Hell, many grownups in the real world don’t know how to use their power and authority responsibly. Do you really think a physically frail, introverted girl whose life got turned upside down by a creature that I’m certain is a fantastical stand-in for a peddler of performance enhancing drugs is gonna adjust to her new life easily and without a hitch? Dream on! Even if she wasn’t already a witch throughout most of Rebellion, Homura’s most defining trait is her devotion to Madoka. Her wish centers around Madoka, not the viewer’s expectations.

It's almost like these people built up this mental image of Homura in their heads, this all-knowing, stoic wunderkind with an awesome voice and graceful gestures who could do no wrong. So what if she was dismissive of Sayaka throwing her life away? It didn’t matter. Sayaka was emo, and Homura was too cool for that shit! The greatest magical girl in history was here. She used modern firearms. She cheated death like it was child’s play. She overcame her apparent shortcomings to become the Doom Slayer, Master Chief, Dusk Dude, the T-800. She was metal as FUCK, and she had killer fashion sense!

And how did I come to such a conclusion? Maybe because Homura had a mental image of Madoka in her head, this brave, unfaltering, all-loving, altruistic heroine who could do no wrong. So what if Madoka had a crippling lack of self esteem? So what if she believed her only worth was to sacrifice her life and her family’s memory of her, effectively committing suicide for a bunch of strangers who died long before she was born? Madoka was the wind beneath Homura’s wings, the air in her lungs, the light at the end of the tunnel. The greatest magical girl in history was here, cuter and stronger than all the Powerpuff Girls combined, and she had killer fashion sense!

I’m gonna paraphrase a quote from Part 4 of JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure, “True art must reflect reality. It cannot come from imagination alone.” (Thus Spoke Rohan.) Madoka Magica is a masterful example of reflecting reality through narrative fiction. Just as the TV series brilliantly illustrated selfishness and selflessness in a non-judgmental manner, so too does Rebellion show that love, for whatever its positives, can sometimes bring out the worst in people. How often have you seen someone in real life do something stupid to impress someone they thought was hot? How often has someone thrown away money, respect, a career, their friends, their family, just to be with someone? How many parents attack people, institutions, celebrities, trends, etc., all supposedly to the benefit of their children? Just going off the people I know in real life, the answer to all those questions is all too many.

But do understand that I’m not saying Homura became evil. She didn’t. Were her actions flawed? Maybe. Selfish? Maybe. However, by rewriting the universe, she was able to foil the latest scheme of the Incubators. She has also vowed to destroy all the Wraiths of the world, and to do so without relying on any other girls trading in their lives to fight alongside her. She’s not just acting to satisfy her own admiration of Madoka. She is doing what she believes to be the best course of action in a bad situation, a very human thing to do.

Way back when I first saw Rebellion, it took me several days to parse what I watched. I knew I liked it, just as much as what came before it, but it took me some time to make sense of what I saw. Once I finally did, I commemorated by listening to a song. (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KoV4kKMwz5k) Yes, I know it’s from Umineko, but Umineko addresses some of the same themes as Madoka Magica, and I find it appropriate; Homura the demon, dancing ballet on the field, smiling a delightfully devilish smile, impervious to the rules and norms of our world. She, like Madoka and Sayaka, is one of the greatest, most nuanced fictional characters I’ve ever seen, and Rebellion would’ve been a lesser feature if it ended differently, as NOT having Homura taking on the role of a devil would’ve been out of character for her.

The other reason I made this review now as opposed to when I first saw it is because a follow-up film is in the works. The Magica Quartet is back together, working on Walpurgisnacht: Rising. Just like the TV series, Rebellion ended in an open-ended manner, for it should be obvious by now that disputes like the ones between Homura and those around her never really end, not when there’s misery to attract the Incubators. I for one can’t wait.

When no one expected it, 07Ryukishi returned to Hinamizawa for a new anime storyline. Everyone thought he was over and done with, considering the original Higurashi spanned 8 visual novels, nearly 40 manga volumes and 50 anime episodes, and that’s before you factor in the spinoffs. Running at 39 episodes long, the new anime is more substantial than a typical 1 to 2 cour series. For the purpose of this review, my thoughts refer to both Gou and Sotsu.

Unlike the earlier anime adaptations, this one was co-written by Ryukishi himself. Character designs were by Akio Watanabe, best known for his work on the Monogatari anime ... franchise. And returning composer Kenji Kawai has once again come to lend his talents to the music score. The music is not the best, but it’s not the worse either, especially at the end. The visuals are not the best ever, but at the very least, this new anime from Passione looks better than the Deen anime productions of old.

Speaking of technical aspects, the Japanese voice cast is still ace after all these years. Rika is still my favorite Yukari Tamura performance after all this time. Also of note is that Funimation did an English dub. Uncontroversial opinion: the English dub is as good as the original Japanese. How ironic. The first Higurashi anime’s English dub is quite possibly the worst dub that’s not by 4Kids or Sentai Filmworks in existence. Higurashi Rei and Sotsu? Everyone, even the moe girls, sound just as good as their originals. Michelle Rojas sounds EXACTLY like how Mion sounds in my head when I read the manga, for example. This is a show I can watch in either format and enjoy.

As such, if you’ve seen the score I’ve given, you’ve no doubt formed some thoughts about me. Conversely, I have some thoughts on how the one time an anime sequel is good, everyone shits all over it. Sure, it has 4.5/5 stars on Funimation, but all I hear, from both casual viewers and longtime fans alike, is that Gou and Sotsu sure did suck alright. They just plain sucked! People have seen anime that sucked before, but they were the suckiest bunch of sucks that ever sucked!

Before I continue this apologetic, let me quality myself. Since my last review here was way back in December of 2015, Higurashi has gone up in my personal ranking. It is equal to Ryukishi’s own Umineko in my eyes now.

I should also mention the following: Higurashi and Umineko changed my life. They are only two of three works of fiction to have ever changed me on a fundamental level. (The third being that Star Wars had a huge impact on me as a child.) Ryukishi is also my favorite living author of narrative fiction. And let it be known that Higurashi and Umineko are my favorite works of fiction. (If you thought my review of Castle in the Sky was glowing, well, I’ve seen The Sun shine.) I say all of this now because if any of you think I’m too biased to properly review Gou and Sotsu, you may leave. If you think my merely liking Gou and Sotsu makes you want to PM me and call me a million variations of The R Word, that is your right. My purpose is to convince those who love Higurashi but avoided this new anime project because of the constant complaints from Real Fans™ about it that they should reconsider. Think of this review as a spoiler free reason to return to Hinamizawa.

It's hard to talk about the plot of Gou and Sotsu without spoiling anything. Suffice to say, a new mystery has arisen, and bloodied bodies are piling up once more. Things seem to be the same as before, yet they’re not. How could this be? Why must tragedy play out once more?

Here is the one flaw I found: Gou and Sotsu did not change my life. This could just be that I’m at a point in my life where I can no longer learn anything significant from a work of narrative fiction, but Gou and Sotsu didn’t have the life-altering messages that Tsumihoroboshi-hen, Minagoroshi-hen, and Matsuribayashi-hen did. Gou and Sotsu are “only” as good as Meakashi-hen was for me, which, by any measurable standard, is phenomenal. Still, if failing to live up to an impossibly high standard makes Gou and Sotsu the shittiest shit that was ever shat out of a butt, then fine, the constant criticisms make sense in that regard.

However, let me print a quote from Ryukishi’s own Umineko, “Without love, it cannot be seen.” Many of the Real Fans™ I see bashing Gou and Sotsu are, like me, familiar with Umineko. I wonder if we even saw the same show. I saw an intense character study, one full of pathos, a story where people grow older and move on to new things. Sometimes, that creates friction, even amongst those with the strongest of bonds. Sometimes, people drift apart not because of things like politics or a change of careers, but just…time. People you knew as kids might not be good friends of yours anymore. People you respect as an adult probably would’ve gotten on your nerves as a kid. People you idolize might have selfish desires, desires that go against your own wishes. This is life. This is reality. Sure, Higurashi presents this in the form of a story where little girls with huge eyes get massacred in brutal fashion, but Higurashi does something very, VERY few works of Japanese popular culture do: reflect reality. This is humanity. It’s not always pleasant. Many victims of abuse grow up to become abusers themselves. Those cute girls you look up to might not stay that way forever because that’s life. And, if I’ve learned anything from talking to people on the internet, it’s that whenever anything reminds people of something that makes them uncomfortable, their first instinct is to attack it. That, too, is reality.

Viewers these days are too literal. There is a difference between what a person literally says versus the actual meaning of what is being said. Much like with the ending of the Umineko visual novel, viewers are once again mis-interpreting Ryukishi’s message. There are no plot holes. No one is out-of-character. The mystery is not the point. If you focused on the actual message of Gou and Sotsu as opposed to your immediate reaction to something occurring that you didn’t theorize would happen when news first dropped of a new Higurashi anime, you would know this.

I publish this knowing full well that my reputation could permanently tank in this community. That’s fine. I already left behind the anime/manga community, so to speak, years ago. I only came back here because I’m trying to create a miracle. I hope this text, however unlikely, convinces fellow Higurashi fans who skipped Gou and Sotsu to give it a chance. While Gou and Sotsu didn’t have the same impact on me like Tsumihoroboshi-hen did, maybe it will for someone else. For me, that is enough.

Good tidings to all of you. Excel. Be kind to each other and yourselves. Bask in the miracle that is your existence. Thank you for reading. Have a pleasant day.

The summer of 2007 was when I stopped hating anime. You can thank the older Fullmetal Alchemist series and Adult Swim for that. But while FMA proved to me that anime didn’t have to be a merchandise vehicle (Pokemon and Yu-Gi-Oh) or an “edgy” OVA, it wasn’t truly earth shattering. That didn’t come until a month or so after that fateful evening I first watched FMA.

I went to Hollywood Video sometime during that summer. Yes, video stores still existed back then, and I did remember that they carried anime. I decided to check around the store, hoping beyond all hopes that they would have something ... other than Dragon Ball Z movies. To my luck, there were DVDs of movies from a guy called Hayao Miyazaki. I knew Miyazaki because one of his movies won an Oscar, and I remember English-speaking anime fans lost their shit when that happened. That movie, Spirited Away, was there, but I had something else in mind. An acquaintance of mine was using the internet in high school (we had free time) one fine day, and he was looking up top-rated anime to watch. I saw one of the ones he was looking at: Castle in the Sky. The article said that Castle in the Sky was “The Casablanca of anime.” Because of that, I rented Castle in the Sky.

First correction: Porco Rosso is the Miyazaki movie like Casablanca, not Castle in the Sky. Whoever wrote that article was a noob. Second correction: Castle in the Sky is too good to be compared to anything else, even a masterpiece like Casablanca.

When I finished watching Castle in the Sky for the first time, I left my house and went for a walk. My mind couldn’t stop thinking about the movie. Not only that, I felt something I rarely felt when experiencing a work of fiction; a renewed purpose in life. I thought about the world we live in, how beautiful and delicate it was. I thought about civilizations, how they built many great things, but were often toppled by the greed and cruelty of destructive men. I thought about all the Japanese video games I had played that were clearly inspired by Castle in the Sky, how a lost culture would leave behind technology that could be used for both good and ill. But above all else, I thought about the movie’s message about compassion, compassion for people, nature, and technology.

I feel no need to summarize Castle in the Sky. It’s a single movie, not a lengthy series. It’s the first movie under the Studio Ghibli banner; even people that avoid anime (like my younger self) would make an exception for this. And, while it’s not a multi-part epic like Fullmetal Alchemist or even Miyazaki’s own Nausicaa manga, (Also highly recommended by me!) Castle in the Sky is still an epic. It achieves this by doing something most other animated films aren’t; be long. It’s two hours long. Most animated films are less than 90 minutes in length. It makes sense, for animated film is time-consuming to make, and they are often for children, and children have short attention spans. Yet here comes Castle in the Sky, also for children, yet manages to weave a wonderful world setting that most fantasy movies should be jealous of. The world is like ours, but it isn’t. There are steam-powered machines, flying ships, guns, cameras, and other early twentieth century technology, yet there is also the civilization of Laputa, with its mysterious, almost god-like technology, technology that inspires both awe and fear. The film manages to convey so much without wasting a single second of screentime, allowing the runtime to go by much faster than it ought to.

I first saw the movie on DVD. Early 2000s DVD technology is a disservice to the works of Studio Ghibli. Do not watch this movie in anything less than a 1080p resolution. Artistically, it is not the best-looking Ghibli movie ever. By anyone else’s standards, nearly every shot of this film is a work of art onto itself. Most of the film is far more smoothly animated that nearly every other work of animation at the time, and even the scenes with less-fluid animation honestly don’t look that much worse than the rest of the film.

The character art is typical Ghibli: simple faces and hair, nice variety of clothes, semi-realistic eye size. Simple and effective. In this day and age of rushed moe artwork, Ghibli character and vehicle designs have stood the test of time by not trying to be marketable or gimmicky or anything other than what they are. They just…are. The art suits the story, not anything else. The camera movements suit the story, not to show off anything cool. Most people, myself included, go on and on about the beauty of Ghibli, but that aesthetic appeal is just a side bonus: everything is in service of the script. It’s just that the scenario Miyazaki conceived of requires painstaking attention to detail, especially the background art.

Oh boy, the background art. This, more than anything else, is where Ghibli is number one in the anime industry. If you’re not convinced of this opinion of mine, take note of my favorite scene in the movie, that being when Pazu and Sheeta finally arrive at Laputa. Words cannot describe the majesty of Laputa, its forests, its robotic guardians, the creatures that thrive long after the humans abandoned Laputa, all of which comes to extremely vivid life thanks to Ghibli’s impeccable background illustrations. No matter how many times I see this movie, my mind is in awe of this scene, and my heart is lightened by the beauty of what was and still is.

I first saw this movie with the English dub that Disney recorded in the late 1990s. It’s the one with Cloris Leachman as Dola and Mark Hamill as Muska. It isn’t the best dub that Disney did for Ghibli—heck, it’s probably the “worst” one they did—yet it’s grown on me by sounding both natural and well-casted, especially when compared to nearly every other English dub from that time. I’ve also seen it in Japanese, but I’ve come to prefer Castle in the Sky in English, as it’s easier for me to laugh at the funny moments when I don’t need subtitles. Miyazaki has said he would prefer his movies be watched in whatever language the audience is most fluent in, so if anything, I’m honoring the author’s wish in doing so.

Then there’s the soundtrack. There’s two, both by the inimitable Joe Hisashi. The original synthesized 80s score, and the 90s re-orchestration. Debates abound over which one is better. Both are masterful, but I prefer the 90s score, as I feel it suits the epic nature of Laupta better, but that’s just personal preference. If you buy the blu-ray copy from Gkids, you can actually change which score to use if you want to watch the English dub. Options!

I don’t have a single favorite movie of all time. I once tried to write a list of top-ten favorite movies of all time, and yes, Castle in the Sky was on it, but I still didn’t find it satisfactory. (I really have something more like a top 40 favorite movies of all time list). I can safely say it’s both my favorite animated theatrical film and my favorite adventure film. Think about that for a moment: a children’s cartoon from Japan is a better adventure movie than all of the Indiana Jones movies. Indy never made me care about preserving the environment. This is a movie that, in my view, stands shoulder-to-shoulder with films like Raging Bull, Schindler’s List, Spider-Man 2, On the Waterfront, and Inside Out.

If you don’t know where to start with Ghibli’s library, start with Castle in the Sky. I did fourteen years ago, and I won’t regret doing so for as long as I live.

Quick! What’s a typical horror movie of the last thirty years like!? “Let me think...Stupid Young People™ do stupid shit that attracts a killer man/demon/monster/alien/Muppet that kills everyone in really gruesome ways for no apparent reason, all while loud noises and ‘scary’ images keep popping up at an annoying frequency until either the luckiest young person escapes, or somehow overcomes the killer flea/boss enemy/weather pattern.”

Okay, what’s Higurashi like? “It is a complex, interwoven tale that explores many different issues such as friendship, guilt, redemption, domestic abuse, romance, lies, paranoia, disease, pride, religion, corruption, revenge, perseverance, and uncompromising scenes of death.” I’ve had people asking me ... in person, “Why? Why do you hate (insert either Friday the 13th/Final Destination/Scream/some other slasher here) so much!?” And I usually say, “Because they’re not Higurashi.”

There are great works of horror out there. There does exist great horror literature, cinema, and video games. The problem is that the creators and fans alike forget that the really strong works of horror, the ones that stick out in your mind for years to come, are the ones that do more than just scare the audience. They still tell a meaningful story. Even among people dying in inhumane ways, of frightened people screaming in hysterics, they still remember the fundamentals of telling a good story. Ryukishi knows this; it’s why he’s become a renowned name among Japanese authors of recent years.

So why then did I skip a review of the other Higurashi arcs, all the way to the 8th and last of the “original” arcs, and why did I wait 4 years to do another review? Because when I reviewed the first 3 arcs back in 2011, I was naïve. I was both naïve and simple-minded. I had tried to review something I had not finished. How could someone who had just come to Hinamizawa understand the history, the culture, the camaraderie of an isolated Japanese village? Keiichi certainly couldn’t have known what weighty issues awaited him and his family when they moved into this quiet country town. It’s incredible how different the series feels once you’ve gotten this far down into this Hell of violence and suspicion. Just like him, I knew there was something unpleasant going on, but I could never be ready for what was really happening. “This can’t be real!” “It’s all a joke, right!?” “It’s just a dream! It has to be!” And it stays this way, for both him and the audience, right up until this final arc.

Don’t believe me? Look at how this arc starts. It’s about Miyo Takano, the nurse of Hinamizawa, her past, and how she became who she is today. Much like everyone else, her past is filled with both darkness and light. Could you know what her life was like just from seeing her in the clinic, dressed in her uniform? That’s one of the many things that Higurashi is known for; no one is who they appear to be at first glance. A cursory glance at the surface shows little of what truly makes up a person in this setting. The same is true of Irie; we learn where he came from as well. All of the lingering questions from the previous arcs are finally answered, and an explosive confrontation ensues. Unlike the previous cases, -will- there be anyone left alive this time?

The manga, unlike the anime, preserves more of the original visual novel text. As such, even if you’ve seen the anime, if you haven’t read this or the VNs, there is still new content to explore. Indeed, just in this arc alone, Irie as a character makes much more sense than he did in the anime. You’re doing yourself a disservice if you’ve only seen the Higurashi anime, as even this far into the series, the manga is a much stronger adaptation of the source. Granted, there is still content cut out from the original VNs, but the manga is truer to Ryukishi’s vision than the anime, and even with some missing material, it moves faster thanks to that and manga imaging making up for the VN text.

As for the artwork, Karin Suzuragi, the artist of the 1st and 6th arc, returns for the 8th arc. While I still prefer the art of the 2nd, 5th, and 7th arc, here, Suzuragi is more experienced than she was back in 2005 for the 1st arc. While the manga still lacks motion, as well as color in most of the pages, the character and background designs are still leagues beyond Deen’s attempts at drawing Hinamizawa. One other difference from the anime is the violence and gore is more detailed here. If you’ve come this far, you know a strong stomach is needed; steel your insides once again for this gruesome finale.

VN authors have attracted more attention in the anime world as of late. Not just Ryukishi, but names like Gen Urobuchi, Kinoko Nasu, Jun Maeda, and Romeo Tanaka, among others, have branched out to other mediums too. Anime producers have caught on to the fact that VNs, while still largely niche, can attract customers beyond hentai-obsessed otaku. Some producers will even bank an entire anime around the reputation of a VN author doing the script of a new series or movie. It’s easy to see why, as many VN authors do have considerable talent, but out of all of them, Ryukishi stands above them all. Few authors have the capacity to bring together the elements of an engaging hook, world building, distinct character voices, pathos, and uniqueness needed to start a new franchise, and fewer still can do that while still being engaging for the audience from beginning to end. Higurashi is proof that Ryukishi is capable of both feats.

And you know what’s even crazier? Higurashi isn’t even my favorite of his works! If you think my gushing of the Higurashi manga is enough to draw you into this series, then you -need- to check out the Umineko series of VNs as well. Then again, that’s an unfair comparison to make, given that he was less experienced making Higurashi than when he made Umineko, but keeping that in mind, I’d say Higurashi turned out fairly well, all things considered. Enjoy your stay in Hinamizawa, just, mind the psychosis.

Yona of the Dawn is an ongoing manga series by Mizuho Kusanagi that started in 2009. It was adapted into a 24 episode anime (plus one OVA episode) by Studio Pierrot in 2014. Having not read the manga, having not even known -anything- about Yona until I randomly saw an image on Crunchyroll one fine day, I decided to watch the anime simply because I thought the main girl looked cool.

Yona is about a girl named Yona. She is the princess of the Kingdom of Kouka, a nation that appears to be based off various feudal Asian cultures. Her father the king gives her nearly ... everything she wants, she never has to do any work herself, and her cousin, Soo-Won, also happens to be The Boy She Likes. The only things wrong with her life is she thinks her hair, a vibrant red mess of wavy strands, is ugly, and that her assigned bodyguard, Son Hak, is sooooo annoying!

But on the eve of her sixteenth birthday, she bears witness to Soo-Won killing her father, with plans to usurp the throne. Yona must flee for her life, and manages to escape with Son Hak. They are now targets of Soo-Won’s violent coup. While on the run, Yona resolves to not only take back the kingdom, but to not be useless anymore. She wants to become a worthy leader in her own right. To do this, she must learn to fight, learn to think for herself, learn how the world works. Her eyes will be open to many harsh truths of Kouka, its neighbors, what the subjects think of her father, and what they make of the coup.

Even as things look hopeless for Yona, she learns of a legend that gives her hope. In ancient times, an ancient dragon known as Hiryuu, described as having vibrant red hair, worked together with four other dragon warriors, establishing the kingdom of Kouka, and that one day, Hiryuu and his followers would be reborn. Yona and her party seek out the four dragons, hoping to enlist their aid in her quest.

Yona is about change. Not just the change of the nation’s ruler, but also how Yona changes. She grows from a helpless, sheltered crybaby into a mighty warrior, and believably so. At first glance, her companions appear to be typical members of a reverse harem: tall muscular young men guaranteed to make teen girls write, “OMG HAWT GAIZ!” They are not shallow either. They too have their own distinct quirks and personalities, and their own reasons to be travelling with Yona. Gi-ja and Shin-ah, in particular, are fantastic characters in their own right. Even the pet squirrel, Ao, serves a purpose beyond “cute animal mascot”.

And that’s what’s so great about Yona; not only are the characters not two-dimensional cutouts, the setting is more complex than it appears too. The world of Yona is not a bright and cheery place beyond the palace walls; there is widespread poverty and corruption, and neighboring countries threatening to overtake Kouka. There is a good deal of politics involved whenever Soo-Won and his followers show up, and the lives of the Four Dragons are not an easy life. Yona learns what her subjects think of her father the previous king, and how she must win their trust back. It shows the world is a large and sometimes confusing place, one wherein victory seems nearly impossible, yet Yona presses on, knowing that anything else would feel like a betrayal for her.

The anime of Yona catches your attention fairly quickly, for its first OP song is not a licensed JPOP song, but an instrumental orchestra that is sometimes used in the show itself. It is an adventurous piece, filled with Asian instrumentation, and it sets the tone for the journey that Yona undertakes. The first ED is less memorable, but is made up by the second ED song, an enka performed by Akiko Shikata, a beautiful and heartfelt way to close an episode of Yona’s tale. The music in the show is not among the best background music I’ve heard, but it gets the job done, as does the voice acting. Chiwa Saitou does a voice for Yona that is neither cutesy nor sexy, a rarity in today’s anime, and always manages to sound right no matter the occasion. The Japanese voice cast doesn’t fail overall, with particular shout outs to Masakazu Morita and Junichi Suwabe for their parts.

In terms of visuals, Yona is not among the best. Kusanagi’s manga art translates well into animated format, but Pierrot, Naruto films aside, was never one for high-end animation. There are gaffes and shortcuts here and there, and the crowd scenes look uninspired. The OP sequence looks nice, and some of the action scenes are well-animated, but don’t expect the visual quality of a show by Bones or ufotable while watching this.

If there are any faults of Yona beyond a few animation shortcuts, it’s that the show takes its time. Like a detailed novel, it takes a while for anything to happen. The pacing is not sluggish, mind you, but Yona devotes a lot of time in fleshing out its setting, giving characters a chance to breathe (so to speak), never rushing itself from one action scene to another. I personally like this approach (for the most part), but I have seen others complain of the show taking too long for something to happen, and I can see why they might think that. If it’s any consolidation, Yona manages to move along without any filler material, for everything is important.

The only other major fault is it’s based off an ongoing manga. Because of this, the anime stops at a certain point. Since the 2-cour tv series ended, exactly one OVA episode has come out since. It’s a great episode, with another great ED song, but if you aren’t reading the manga, it will leave you wanting for more. Yona’s journey is far from finished, and while there is always the possibility of the anime coming back, that may take a while. Even if there is no more animated content beyond this, what we do currently have is something to be cherished.

Yona of the Dawn appears to many people to be “another typical shoujo adventure”. Critics say Yona is a “Mary Sue”, (she’s not) that it’s just a ripoff of Inuyasha and Fushigi Yugi, (Yona is superior in execution compared to both of those) that the “face faulting” makes it look too much like a “cartoon” at times. (What a wild thing to say! A series of drawings looking like a cartoon!? Absurd!) From my observations, Yona is a deep character, with many flaws and virtues, and can’t be pegged down with a single-word description like “moe”, Yona is what I wanted Inuyasha to be like so many years ago, and yes, Yona does have comic relief that oftentimes involve the characters looking silly, but some of the humor is funny, and is less forced than what Fullmetal Alchemist had in that regard. While slow at times, I saw the beginning of what could become a masterpiece in this show. If there is a second season, or if the manga comes to a conclusion, I am -immediately- jumping back into this world. This is a series that combines action, adventure, drama, romance, and comedy into one splendid package, and you would be remiss to not check it out.

(Don LaFontaine voice)

“In a world rife with kid heroes receiving convenient powers out of nowhere…a world overrun with moeblobs and shallow archetypes for characters…a world ravaged by light novels more concerned with otaku references than telling a good story…one man will rise to dispense his brand of ironclad justice.”

(Insert fiery whoosh sound effect)

(start playing Die Hollen Polizei)

“From the studio that brought you Little Witch Academia comes an anime that kicks tiresome clichés to the curb. A dramatic tale of good versus evil unlike any you’ve ever seen, set in the United States of Japan.”

... (insert stock explosion sound effect)

“Inferno Cop! Now available at your local Crunchyroll distributor. Rated R.”

(Cut out music)

(normal voice)

Alright, given the nature of Inferno Cop, I felt compelled to start off on a silly note, since most of the other reviews here clearly aren’t taking themselves seriously, which makes sense, given that Inferno Cop is impossible to take seriously.

If you couldn’t tell from my text-only trailer, Inferno Cop is a comedy from Studio Trigger. Not too long ago, I reviewed another project of theirs, Little Witch Academia. LWA was made on a large budget. Inferno Cop is the polar opposite.

This series sports less animation than most Flash cartoons on Newgrounds. The Astro Boy anime of the 1960s has more motion than this. Not only that, the backgrounds all look like they were ripped out of old visual novels, none of the speech is lip-synched, several character models are re-used, and none of the episodes are particularly long. This actually works in Inferno Cop’s favor. The comedic timing it employs simply would not work with detailed animation, as drawing articulations of movement would slow it down too much. In other words, this anime is a lean, mean, fighting machine! It has no time for padding! It has no time for lengthy expositions! And it can do jokes most other works of animation can’t. Even if it looks more like a comic book than a proper anime, Inferno Cop takes full advantage of the “less is more” mentality. I’d also like to add that while the visuals are minimalistic, it’s not the worst ever. I like the flame effects, and some of the character designs are well done. No one looks like a typical anime character, but rather, that of American comic books. Whether or not you’ll like that is for you to decide. I personally don’t mind.

Though the budget doesn’t just limit the artwork, oh no. The voice cast is limited too. What do I mean? All of the female characters are done by male actors speaking in falsetto. Not to mention that a good portion of the voice acting is overly hammy. And that many different characters are obviously voiced by the same actor. Given that everything else is already made with the absolute minimum of resources, it fits. I will say the actor for Inferno Cop does some impressive shouting at times.

As for the series itself? It’s about Inferno Cop, a man coming back from Hell to avenge the death of his family at the hands of an evil criminal organization. That’s it. A premised so simplistic, so overdone, that you just roll with it to see how absurd it gets, and boy, does it get absurd. This show makes a mockery of many different things, not just anime clichés, but many things in general. It feels like something that, were it made in America, would air either on Adult Swim or Animation Domination High-Def. Being an ONA, the episodes are very short, and the whole series can be marathoned in under one hour. This would be a perfect thing to show at a late night party with friends.

For all of that said, I do want to emphasize one thing; Inferno Cop is not dumb. Yes, it’s low brow, and feels like the makers made everything up as they went along, but it’s not asinine. You do not need to “turn your brain off” to enjoy it. Part of the fun is trying to make sense of all the weird shit that happens in Inferno Cop, which was hard for me to do, because I was laughing too much to do so. While I wouldn’t quite call it a masterpiece, (Gintama is, on average, even funnier) Inferno Cop was a good way to kill forty-five minutes of my time, and easily the best Japanese ONA I’ve seen thus far.

One last thing: the majority of the budget clearly went into the soundtrack, including the main theme, a rock song sung in German with very thick Japanese accents. According to a quick fact check, the lyrics, while composed of real German words, make no sense. It only serves to make Inferno Cop even more-no, not awesome, I need a bigger word to describe it…stupendously astonishing as a work of gloriousness.

In 2013, a Japanese governmental program known as “Young Animator Training Project” raised money to fund four animated short films for release during that year. One of these was Little Witch Academia, a twenty-six minute film from Studio Trigger, then an upstart company founded by former members of Studio Gainax.

The beginning shows a little girl sitting with an audience in front of an outdoor concert stage underneath the starry night sky. What’s everyone gathered here for? To watch a show, and sure enough, a performer appears; a witch known as Shiny Chariot. Her magic dazzles the audience, none more so than the little girl in ... the audience, who is astonished beyond description. Flash forward several years later, and we now see that girl, Akko, as a student at Luna Nova, a school for teaching young girls on how to become proper witches. However, Akko is not very studious; she can’t even fly on a broomstick properly. What sort of witch can’t do that!? Then again, unlike the other students, Akko doesn’t come from a family of magicians. But that’s not her only problem; her idol, Shiny Chariot, is considered a childish fraud by the witch community, which only angers and frustrates Akko even more. She is not alone, for she does have two friends, Lotte, and Sucy, who act as her support. One day, during a training exercise, the three of them are working together when a crisis occurs, one threatening the entire school, and by happenstance, Akko is the only one who can save the day. Can she succeed, even despite her lack of ability?

Despite being only 26 minutes in length, Little Witch Academia manages to flesh out quite a bit in that timeframe. We see how some of the magic works, we get an idea of what the characters are like, and there’s a clear beginning, middle, and end. Its length is its strength and weakness. Since LWA isn’t very long, it never drags on. Every scene serves a purpose. On the other hand, while LWA does a fine job with its setting and characters, it’s not overly “deep”. At first glance, it looks like a Harry Potter knockoff, and LWA is more family-friendly than certain “mature” anime franchises. Those who skip out are missing out on another distinguishing feature: its animation.

Simply put, LWA is one of the best-looking works of animation I’ve ever seen. And I have seen a LOT of animated film throughout my life. Thanks to governmental funding, Trigger was able to produce an anime more visually pleasing than nearly everything else coming from Japan. The character designs are all unique, without re-using faces and hairstyles, everything is fully animated, the coloring and lighting is majestic, the backgrounds are lush, and not once could I spot any gaffes anywhere. I would even say LWA looks better than some of Ghibli’s movies. But the budget doesn’t stop there; the music is a full orchestra composed by Michiru Oshima, the same composer for the older Fullmetal Alchemist anime, and just like in FMA, her music here is outstanding. There aren’t a large number of tracks, but what’s here is truly beautiful, especially in the first scene with Shiny Chariot. The voice acting is also well done. Most of the VAs I don’t know by name, (Besides Megumi Han, but I only know her from Hunter X Hunter) but again, everyone sounds spot-on. Nothing feels rushed in any aspect of this film.

When I first saw LWA, it -immediately- took me back to my childhood. I grew up in the 1990s, the decade of Disney, and the renaissance of animation in general. I saw a lot of cartoons back then, some better than others, but the ones I love truly mesmerized me in the same way Shiny Chariot mesmerized the young and impressionable Akko. When I was done, I wanted more. Sometime after the release of LWA, Trigger started a Kickstarter to fund a sequel. The Kickstarter was a big success, and there will be a 40-minute follow-up coming out soon. Trigger has even stated that if LWA 2 is successful, they will continue on, and I hope they do. They have created something truly wonderful, something that deserves a sequel. LWA is a work of passion, not something created by a business committee to appeal to whatever is “hot” right now, for this is something meant to be timeless. This is a setting I hope gets expanded upon, because it deserves it. For now, the first film is an exceptional introduction.

Monthly Girls’ Nozaki-kun is an ongoing manga series that started in 2011. In 2014, it received a 12 episode anime.

Okay, stop me if any of this sounds familiar. Nozaki-kun is about a high school girl named Chiyo Sakura. Like many girls her age, she has A Boy She Likes, a fellow classmate named Nozaki. She finally works up the nerve to tell him how she feels about him. However, instead of saying something like, “I’m in love with you! Let’s hang out!” she instead says, “I’m your biggest fan!” His reaction? He fills out an autograph. Chiyo’s reaction is the same as the audience’s; huh? ... She clarifies that she wants to be with him. Nozaki then invites her over to his apartment, not to be romantically together with her, but rather to have her assist in his manga. It turns out that Nozaki is a shoujo manga author, and he thought Chiyo was a fan of his work, so much so, that she wanted to be an assistant producer. Bewildered but not put off, she agrees to help him, hoping she’ll get closer to him. The only problem is, despite writing mushy love stories, Nozaki is completely unaware of how she feels for him, indeed, he hasn’t even been in love himself!

The whole thing about Nozaki-kun is that it’s a shoujo romance that pokes fun at shoujo romance. (The fact that the manga runs in a shonen serial might be a giveaway) Like many artists, Nozaki takes inspiration from the people around him. Since everyone acts like a shoujo manga cliché, or at least something akin to that, this gives him a lot of good material, and a lot of laughs for the audience. For example, there is Mikoto, the charming red-haired stud, who loves to flirt with girls...and also suffers from a frail ego. He is always embarrassed by his words. Nozaki bases one of his female characters off of him, hinting that a lady’s man like Mikoto can be like a stereotypical girly girl. There is also Seo, the beautiful girl with an angelic singing voice...who is also disrespectful, unfeminine, and loves to be violent on the basketball court. And there’s also Yuu, the “Prince” of the school...who is actually a girl, just very masculine in appearance. She plays male characters in the theater club, and is the heartthrob of other girls, regardless of their preferences. That’s not even mentioning the other oddball personalities, like the two manga editors Maeno (conceited) and Ken (“normal”, yet beloved by Nozaki). The two mains are quirky in their own right. Chiyo is cheery and bright, though not as ditzy as characters like her usually are; her facial reactions should be proof of this. Nozaki is a talented author and artist, yet does and says nearly everything with a poker face, and when he does get emotional, it’s over the strangest of things.

While Nozaki-kun makes a lot of fun of shoujo romances, it never does so in a mean-spirited manner. One can be a fan of the genre, or not, and still enjoy Nozaki-kun for what it is. Many of the jokes work even if you know nothing of how these sorts of love stories play out. There’s humor in gender stereotypes, meta gags, slapstick, dialogue, and all other variety of humor. Unlike some comedy anime, which rely mostly on otaku references or tired physical gags, Nozaki-kun rarely gets tiresome in how it presents itself. I say rarely, for some of the later episodes recycled gags at times. It wasn’t a huge detriment, but I did remember that.

Also of note is the animation. In short, it looks much better than most other high school comedies. The animation itself is very fluid for a tv series, with bright colors that don’t get too garish, and I was unable to locate any off model shots. The character designs are typical of shoujo, with the men being tall and with handsome faces, but there’s variety, for Chiyo is the only girl with an overly childish appearance, Yuu’s princely figure is unique, and Ken the editor looks rather plain for an anime character, but it all helps for the different personas to stand out, not just in behavior, but in appearance too.

The opening theme song is a catchy tune, as is some of the background music. The audio doesn’t fail, and this extends to the voice acting, which is spot on. There are many recognizable names in the cast, including Yuuichi Nakamura, Mai Nakahara, Daisuke Ono, and Norio Wakamoto. Of particular note is Miyuki Sawashiro. Normally, I find Sawashiro’s performances sounding like she’s bored out of her mind, but not here; she really chews the scenery as Seo, in a good way. Even the actors I don’t know by name sound great. There are no weak links in the Japanese cast, for sure.

Upon finishing the last episode, I had two thoughts. One, there needs to be more Nozaki-kun! Two, why didn’t anyone think of spoofing shoujo romances like this before!? Okay, aside from Ouran High School Host Club, I can’t think of anything else like Nozaki-kun, certainly not anything new. This is a fresh take on the high school comedy anime, and a fresh take on the strange things love does to us, and one I wouldn’t mind seeing continued in animated form.

Eureka Seven is an anime series made by Studio Bones in 2005. Unlike most anime series, E7 is not based off any pre-existing material; it was originally made as an anime.

At first glance, E7 doesn’t appear to be anything out of the ordinary. The story is about a fourteen year old boy named Renton Thurston. His life is thrown upside-down when a giant robot crashes into his house’s garage. Piloting the robot is a girl named Eureka. Apparently, she is the member of a rebel faction called the Gekkostate, which fights the government for unknown reasons. But before he knows it, Renton gets caught up ... in their battles, and becomes inducted into the Gekkostate almost by accident. He stays for two reasons: one, their leader is Holland Novak, someone Renton looks up to. Two, Renton is hopelessly in love with Eureka. That’s . . . the best introduction I can give if you haven’t seen the show, but take my word, Eureka Seven has a little bit of everything in it. There’s action, for most of the fighting is done in Light Finding Operators, or LFOs. LFOs are basically giant robots that are armed, can fly through the air on “Lift” boards (thus making it look like they’re surfing through the sky), and can also transform into other vehicles. There’s comedy, for the members of the Gekkostate are a quirky bunch, and there’s drama, for every action has its consequences.

But what’s impressive about Eureka Seven, more than anything else, is the characterization. The characters in this show feel like real people. The villains aren’t simply one-dimensional “evil” people who want to cause harm; they have motives for their actions. The characters develop and grow throughout the series. Renton is a very different person by the end of the series, as is Eureka. The same could be said for most of the rest of the cast. The show also show poses many tough questions for both the characters and the audience: do the ends justify the means? What makes a great leader? Is love worth it? What is the truth? All this and more is explored.

Aesthetically, Eureka Seven does not fail. The animation varies from average to amazing. Scenes where people are standing around talking don’t look impressive, but fights between LFOs never cease to amaze. The character designs are not some of the best I’ve seen in an anime, but they are unique and serve their purpose. The soundtrack is an eclectic mixture of orchestrated scores, techno, and rock, all of which is impressive. The voice-acting, both in English and in Japanese, is outstanding.

But this show is special. Why? Because E7 did something no other anime series, no, no other tv series -period- has ever done before; it made me cry. I cried real tears of joy at my favorite moment in the series. I felt -that- strongly for the characters. You see, E7 is an emotional rollercoaster ride: one moment, you’re smiling out of warmth, the next, you’re depressed, and hope that the pain ends soon. In the next scene, you’re terrified at the awesome power of the LFOs. And, yes, you may even be moved to tears. I have rarely seen a tv series able to do that effectively, and E7 is the only animated series from Japan that I know can do that. That in itself is incredible.

And so it stands; Eureka Seven is now my favorite anime......

.......Most of the above is from an essay I wrote back in 2008, when I first watched E7. I never published it online, just kept it to myself. It’s 2015 now, and after nearly six-and-a-half years, I watched E7 all over again. To my surprise, not only does everything I wrote back then still hold up in my mind, if anything, E7 has gotten better over time.

The pacing of the series is perfect. Perhaps because E7 was originally a tv series, and not a manga or video game, but every episode, save for the 39th, contributes something meaningful, and things never slow to a crawl, nor does it overwhelm you with too much content at once. Some people criticize the show for not starting off on a high note. Personally, I feel the early episodes are good, but it’s not until about eighth or so episode in that it starts to get really strong, and even stronger by the second half. Even then, I feel the early episodes are a necessity, for it gives you an idea of what Renton is, what the Gekkostate is like, the sort of shenanigans that will occur, and so on.

Speaking of characterization, again, I’m simply amazed by what Bones accomplished. Renton is not a bland cypher for the audience to slip into like many other anime protagonists, nor is he an impossibly perfect deity. He’s a kid, he’s impatient, he’s overly emotional, and he’s entirely relatable. Eureka is not “just another Rei Ayanami ripoff”; she’s a fascinating individual who undergoes incredible growth as the series progresses. Holland is a massive prick, true, but he’s also complex, and is more humane than he lets on. And let’s not forget Anemone, my favorite anime character of all time, the one partially responsible for that certain scene that, even today, still makes me cry.

I’ve watched many more anime since 2008. I’ve grown myself, not just as a person, but as a critic, and as a writer. I’ve seen many works of animation, some that I also love with all of my heart. And yet, after all these years, it’s a shonen mecha series I like above all else. Even more than Laputa: Castle in the Sky and Death Note, hard as it is to believe. E7 is also my favorite televised action series, and if Futurama didn’t exist, would be my favorite animated series of all time, yet even THAT is currently being contested.

Why though? Why do I love this show so much? A show that some people scoff as “just another mecha”, “just another Bones anime”, “just a ripoff of Evangelion”? Well for one thing, I have noticed some elements in E7 that are similar to Eva, as well as various Gundam series. I don’t feel E7 ripped them off, but rather, took elements of older mecha series, did them its own way, and effectively improved upon common mecha tropes. It’s really hard for me to describe without going into spoilers, but I think what separates E7 from everything else, even its own successor Eureka Seven Astral Ocean, is that it’s about hope. Renton hopes to be with Eureka and impress his idol Holland. Eureka hopes to do what she thinks is right. Holland hopes to make amends for the sins of his past. Anemone hopes to find something meaningful with her life, and somehow, everyone tries their hardest to make things better. Amid strange phenomena, surfing robots, loud techno music, and violent deaths, everyone, in one way or another, says, “Screw how things are! I’m gonna set everything right!” It’s a rejection of cynicism, and a statement about making dreams come true, even if you must risk your life, your sanity, and your livelihood to do so. For the longest time, I couldn’t find the words to describe exactly why E7 is my favorite anime. Even now, I’m not sure if these words will suffice. All I know is this show grips me in a way no other anime has, and may continue to do so for the rest of my life.

Don’t beg for it, earn it. Only then will it be granted to you.