(REVIEW) The Miracle of Being: EARTH MAIDEN ARJUNA, Saving The Planet, and You

This review contains spoilers for the reviewed material. This is your only warning.


We aren’t meant to live like this.

At least, that is part of the driving thesis of Earth Maiden Arjuna. The mood is spiritual, and the tools used to explore that spirituality are myriad. It is here where we find maybe the fullest-ever realization of the magical girl as shaman; moonless, stormy nights in the wilderness, a return to the Earth that shakes you to your bones and shocks every single neuron in your brain, a bolt of lightning illuminating what every single aspect of the phrase “save the world” truly means. Pure hippie shit, in a good way. Gaia Theory‘s strongest soldier in this medium; the big wheel keeps on turning, and Arjuna‘s greatest strength is its ability to illuminate the spokes thereof; the fight for our planet rendered as a profound spiritual struggle. It’s brilliant, absurd, and more than a little frustrating.

Because at its worst, Arjuna instead gives off the familiar, stale whiff of thumbing through the more dubious sections of a New Age book store; screeds against genetic engineering, half-true claims about the value of growing your own food, needling jabs about everything from selectively-bred microbes to video games to aspirin, and, perhaps most damningly, the stink of the anti-abortion movement. Pure hippie shit, in a bad way. The kind of “ecological consciousness” that can be co-opted by the self-impressed, the hucksters, and much worse alarmingly easily. The kind you have to be pretty careful with.

Arjuna is largely not careful. And for that reason, it’s a tangled thing; as twisting, knotty, and gnarled as the roots and tree branches it so dearly loves. A lot of it will feel familiar, for good and bad, to anyone who’s ever had an older relative that went through a spiritual phase. This is essential oils and nights on a magic mountain, the dim glow of fireflies and the stale paper of inflammatory pamphlets. This is Earth Maiden Arjuna; for better or worse, it’s a lot. But while I’m going to say a lot about Arjuna and its various strengths and weaknesses here, two things are absolutely true; Arjuna knows something is wrong, and it has at least one pretty solid idea of how to fix that wrongness. In evaluating it as a piece of art, rather than as some kind of instructional text, those points count for a lot.

Arjuna is the story of Juna [Mami Higashiyama ,in what is, incredibly, apparently her only major anime role], an ordinary high school girl whose life is thrown into disarray in the aftermath of a motorcycle crash along with her boyfriend Tokio [Tomokazu Seki], who enters the series as the driver of said motorcycle. Juna, in a coma, is saved from the brink of death by the mysterious Chris [Yuuji Ueda]. The price for her resurrection? She must fulfill her role as the chosen defender of Earth itself, primarily in the form of dealing with ethereal, worm-like monsters called the Raaja.

In a sense, none of this would be that out of place in any other magical girl series. The term is an uneasy fit for Earth Maiden Arjuna for reasons we’ll get into shortly, but it does apply. If you take an extremely reductive approach, you can boil most of the rest of the series down to the essentials as mapped out by, say, Sailor Moon. A magical warrior is granted incredible powers that rely on her sense of empathy and compassion does battle against monsters that manifest from humanity’s evils, along the way her own sense of responsibility develops with the help of both her own experiences and a mysterious mentor. The thing is, while it’d be a mistake to try to force too much distance between Arjuna and its genre-fellows, the presentation of all of this makes it feel very different from most of its peers. Juna’s role is intricately connected to her understanding of the Earth as a singular, living organism. It takes her most of the series to truly understand the full implications of that, and she really only has her final revelation in the very last episode.

Thus, most of the show is about how she deepens that understanding. Early on, she’s abandoned on a mountain with no equipment or supplies of any kind, and must learn how to survive on her own. And if you’re expecting the series to hammer this into some kind of tourist ad for the beauty of nature, you’re not watching the right series. Juna very nearly dies, and the only way she’s able to survive is by a quite literal miracle. Stripped of the trappings of modern life, Juna is forced to treat the Earth itself as her only means of survival, and through this lesson—and many others like it over the course of the series—she deepens her bond with the planet, little by little. Surviving the mountain gives her the ability to see the auras of living things. Which, sure, it’s the instrument that propels several of the series’ subsequent plotlines, but more important to what Arjuna is trying to actually do is that it lets her literally see how much of the planet is alive. Everything from the swarm of ants that picks her over in an early, frightening portent of what the series later has in store, to the glimmer of a nutritious leaf, to the very blood flowing through her own veins is laid bare to her.

In a lesser series, Juna’s character development would stop here. Possessed of the sacred knowledge of how life and planet are intertwined, she would spend the remaining 10 episodes of the show being insufferable about everything and the remainder of the series would be about other characters—and consequently, we the audience—learning from Juna in a direct and very talking-down kind of way. There is, admittedly, some of this, and one particularly bad example, as we’ll get to, but for the most part Juna comes out of this ordeal and many others like it with only incremental experience. Life is hard, giving up the life you’ve lived up until this point is significantly harder, and Juna subsequently spends most of the series as the student, not the master, and there are a number of times throughout where she fails to learn an important lesson, all the way up through to the end of the series.

The whole mountain storyline is one of the show’s most successful. Conversely, it feels pertinent to here mention that not every one of these necessarily lands, and some of the show’s weaker material does, as mentioned, drift into pure New Age book shop hokum. On the other hand, it’d be a mistake to say that Arjuna, if it has a problem, suffers from the fact that it’s about the environment in the first place. The show would not work on a very fundamental level if it wasn’t about these things, and if it misses about as often as it hits, maybe that’s just the inevitable consequence of being such a pure emotional trip of thoughts and feelings. Art of a certain caliber is due a certain amount of grace, and if one takes Arjuna as the scrambled thoughts of someone trying to work out their place in the world rather than as someone necessarily telling you how to live your life, it makes significantly more sense.

….But admittedly, the series itself sometimes makes that hard. It’s true that art should not be judged solely through the lens of how applicable it is as advice to one’s own life, and Arjuna is mostly good enough that I’d be inclined to dismiss such readings out of hand. But it’s not entirely good enough, and it’s probably here that we should talk about the show’s flaws, which are few in number but significant in impact.

So, the food thing. Arjuna really, really loves the idea of all-natural, organic food. “Organic” here meaning “devoid of those nasty chemicals and GMOs.” This is one of a couple places where the show’s point of view becomes all too easy to wave off. Because the sorts of people who complain about GMOs and non-specific “chemicals” in things are, rightly, often thought of as kooks. For the most part, Arjuna‘s treatment of this subject matter skews too goofy to really be read as harmful. The recurring problem of Juna being unable to eat processed food once she returns to civilization, for example, is definitely framed as though it’s a serious thing, but it’s hard to imagine anyone taking it on those terms. Especially when the show’s alternative is portrayed in such a trippy, Healthy Eating PSA-on-acid manner.

Juna decides to take “you are what you eat” more literally than most.

And, frankly, for all its haranguing on about chemicals in foods (seriously, some of the episodes of the show that are worse about this made me feel like I was in the car with my health nut aunt), Arjuna does at least know that spiffy capitalistic solutions won’t actually work. At one point, Tokio tries to compromise with Juna by offering her a ‘vitamin drink’ (think V8 or some such), and Juna has to explain to him that it’s not really much better than the cola that he’s drinking. Also, in a rare show of self-deprecation, Arjuna stages a fake commercial for this drink in episode 7’s halfway break that really must be seen to be believed. (It’s the first of several of these, in fact, including an extra-long one that was apparently a DVD bonus. Arjuna‘s skewering of commercials is probably its easiest point to relate to.)

This is the case for most of the show’s flaws, at any rate. These are sticking points that can be either laughed off as absurd or safely chalked up to the passage of time between the series’ original release and now. It’s not the case for all of them, though. We do have to talk about the show’s one big sticking point, the anti-abortion episode. Folks, it’s a rough one.

Juna spends most of this episode, the show’s ninth, learning to hear the voices of the unborn with the help of Cindy [Mayumi Shintani], Chris’s sort-of assistant. Cindy is a great character, possibly my second favorite after Juna herself, she’s funny, has a deep affection for Chris since he saved her as a child, and is responsible for both some of the show’s best one-liners and some of its most emotional moments. This episode, though, largely doesn’t do her justice. For the most part, the episode is a parade of nonsense to a much greater extent than even the others that present dubious ideas. It reads like a checklist of weird anti-abortion stuff; the notion that babies can “choose” when they’re born, the stereotype of all women who get (or even consider) abortions as abnormally sexually promiscuous, etc. The target for the latter in this case being Juna’s otherwise-unseen sister Kaine.

The whole thing climaxes with this, the dumbest single line in the whole show.

Married with that visual—of Juna just standing there all po-faced and pissed off—it basically becomes the world’s worst reaction image, something that is both riotously funny and deeply uncomfortable. A T-shirt reading “magical girls don’t do drugs” would be less on the nose.

That the series has to tie itself into knots to get there just makes it worse. With most of the other points Arjuna makes you can at least understand where it’s coming from, but most of what’s brought up here is just flat-out wrong, and worse still is that in doing this it squanders a powerful symbol it could’ve used to explore the issue with much more sympathy.

That’d be the fact that Cindy can physically feel everything that will ever happen to her—including, as she makes very clear in a very uncomfortable scene, sex—a disturbing and deft metaphor for the way that society hammers women into shape from the literal moment they are born; how it is demanded that a girl be aware of and take steps to address how she might appear to men, and how if anything happens to her because she fails to consider this, that she will be blamed. That this metaphor is then squandered on making her a mouthpiece for some really ugly bio-essentialism and the most tone-deaf anti-abortion plot this side of a Christian direct-to-streaming movie just sucks. Easily the worst part coming when we’re informed that Chris was water birthed from two loving parents, and that this is the reason he’s so gentle, because he “knows what real love is.” The unspoken other side of that claim, presented as fact, is pretty fucked up, and you would have to be a real piece of work to seriously think that the circumstances of a baby’s birth are solely dictated by how much their parents love them. The whole thing is just bad. Easily the worst idea the series has, and just wildly unpleasant to boot.

Ultimately, pockmarks like this are why I can’t give Arjuna the outright glowing review I’d love to. And we get into a fiddly and subjective realm, here, of just how much this is going to bother an individual viewer. Admittedly, while I am a woman, I am a trans woman, and thus am somewhat distanced from the issue of childbirth in particular. That might be why I find this episode, easily the show’s nadir, to mostly just be deeply unfortunate rather than an out-and-out show-wrecker. Nonetheless, if someone, especially someone who has more closely been impacted by this subject said that this just fully ruined the show for them, I don’t think I could really blame them.

Ultimately, Arjuna is holistic enough that not taking to it to ask for this would actually be the bigger insult than doing so is. It is better to acknowledge what the show is doing than try to pretend it isn’t doing it. (This is to say nothing of the viewer who would actually agree with the points being made here. But many are objectively untrue, and several are based on old debunked myths about childbirth. So I would advise anyone in that position to reconsider.)

A more briefly touched-on idea regarding an intersex character also hits a strange note. I will cop to not knowing if what she offers as an explanation for her condition (something about side effects from medicine her mother was taking) is true, but even if it is, the way it’s brought up doesn’t gel with the rest of the scene very well. It’s a strange mark on an otherwise pretty good bit of character writing, where we learn that she had a loving boyfriend and was part of the climate activism movement when she was younger, and it’s worth noting that the character is very well-handled otherwise, especially given that this show came out in 2001.

What makes flaws like this all the more noticeable is how well it gets it at other times. Arjuna excels at both very small-scale person to person drama and extreme big-picture thinking, and it’s pretty good at tying the two together, too. (This technique, which is not at all unique to this show, was the basis for the “world story” term back in the early days of Anglophone anime blogging, and if the term’s ever applied to anything, Arjuna must surely be it.) It only really hits a sour spot in discussing certain kinds of systemic problems, which it inevitably simplifies and tries to suggest easy fixes for. This makes it frustrating that the show spends as much time talking about all that as it does, but it makes the areas it excels at stand out all the more.

Take episode 8, for example. Juna, having just come off of a period of being depressed and doubting if Tokio truly loves her, finds she can literally astral project to spend some time with him, flitting around his room as an intangible half-ghost while Tokio, put-upon everyman that he is, remains unaware of her semi-physical presence, but loves talking to her nonetheless. Elsewhere, parental bonds are reforged after enduring immense stress with the help of Juna’s ability to literally see emotions, and a down on his luck math teacher expounds about the beauty of Fermat’s Last Theorem.

There’s even a pretty great moment in what is otherwise the show’s worst episode. Juna re-commits to her relationship with Tokio after the whole abortion plotline mercifully ends, and while they spend time together under the stars on a beach, they realize that their feelings for each other are more important than anything physical. The love is what counts.

Sequences like these contrast the depressing mundanity of modern life with the inner strength and character of the people who endure it, and it is this compassionate interpretation of a majority of its characters that inclines me to read Arjuna favorably. In a lesser series, characters like Tokio’s father, a biochemist whose work ends up indirectly causing the apocalypse (more on that in a second) or the aforementioned math teacher would be written as flat caricatures. That they have such interiority makes the show breathe and feel alive, which is really important in a series whose core thesis is that we’re all part of a greater being.

And, indeed, that’s how it ties that small-scale drama to the big-picture stuff. More or less the entirety of the show’s finale, which fields an impressive amount of spectacle to truly take the kids’ gloves off, sees Arjuna kick into overdrive as petroleum-eating bacteria merge with the Raaja to create a new type of Raaja that destroys plastic and, it seems, most artificial products in general, on a massive scale, leaving Japan completely devastated and the entire world threatened. An American official with ties to an oil company advocates for just letting the whole country die, probably the closest Arjuna ever gets to an out-and-out evil villain.

Arjuna has some pretty harsh things to say about civilization in general, and for a while, it does genuinely look like the series might torch the whole planet and walk away, which would be a disappointing ending that lets all involved off the hook and burns the series to the ground for a false sense of catharsis. Pointedly, it is only Juna’s near last-minute realization that the world is intricately interconnected that saves Earth, and everyone she cares about, from destruction at the hands of the Raaja. The final scene, where she fully comprehends the realization that she’s been given, and loses her voice in the process, is absolutely stunning.

It all clicks into place; when you harm the planet you harm yourself. When you harm yourself, you harm your neighbor. When you harm your neighbor, the whole world suffers. You get it. In the show’s opening shots, we learn that Juna is an archer, and recites a mantra to herself to help her shoot straight. Most of that mantra, in this final episode, turns out to be literally true; “the body permeates throughout the universe.” “It’s not to shoot the target, but to become one with the target.” Juna realizes that the Raaja and her mentor Chris—and thus, all beings everywhere—are one in the same. It is a humble, joyous, and life-affirming ending to an astounding series. This is why I like Arjuna, and why I can forgive it for most of its missteps. For the faults it does definitely have, it understands its own core extremely well, and its ability to articulate those central ideas is admirable.

Earth Maiden Arjuna‘s legacy is….difficult to pin down. In contemporary English-language anime discourse, it might actually be most famous as Kevin Penkin’s favorite anime. Which is fair enough; the series’ music, by the legendary and inimitable Youko Kanno, plays a huge role in establishing Arjuna‘s atmosphere of mysticism. The show’s production is absolutely wonderful in general, actually. It looks positively great; decidedly of its era in the best way possible. And well, doesn’t this tell you something about the state of anime discourse in English? All that time spent talking about what the show means and one whole paragraph about its sound and visuals. I haven’t even mentioned that this thing was the brainchild of Shouji Kawamori! (Probably best known as “the Macross guy” but honestly of such prolific work that pinning any particular thing to him and having it be definitive is impossible.) I also haven’t mentioned how absolutely cool Juna’s “Arjuna” form is. Dig the glowy hair!

There are, I’ll concede, also elements I’m not qualified to comment on. The fact that Juna can summon a massive mecha-like creature that’s called Ashura and seems to symbolize the more wrathful and headstrong aspect of her personality certainly means something, but beyond basics like this I’m over my head in discussing the series’ use of Hindu symbolism, and a few other things besides.

But I don’t think Arjuna, of all anime, would be mad to have itself reduced to its themes. The series’ ending demonstrates a deep appreciation of the fact that the universe is a web of connected nodes. The show’s display of this fact is on the simple side, but it is true that there are no discrete actors. In a very real way, we are each other, and we are the world itself. Left implicit by Arjuna is the fact that this is also true of ideas, thoughts, feelings, and yes, stories. So, if Arjuna fails the spot test on any particular issue, at the end of the day it understands compassion. It’s a lot like Juna itself, in fact; ever the student, forever learning, right up until the very end.


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Seasonal First Impressions: Hell is Other People in KAMIERABI GOD.APP

Seasonal First Impressions is a column where I detail my thoughts, however brief or long, about a currently-airing anime’s first episode or so.


“Be forewarned that what’s to come isn’t a very pleasant story.”

-Opening line of the series.

You really need to know what you’re doing if you’re going to open a show with a deliberate, tone-setting monologue. That quote up there is just the tip of the iceberg, where Gorou Ono [Kazuki Ura], the protagonist of KamiErabi God.app, tells us that this show will not have heroes, will not have a love interest, won’t be about friendship, and won’t “tug at your heartstrings.” It’s a tale of sound and fury signifying nothing, in other words, and he encourages us to just “laugh it off” if nothing else. That kind of acidic cynicism is certainly more likely to elicit laughter than any actual bracing for serious, cerebral storytelling in this day and age, that’s true. So is there actually anything to this show, or are we in for a hopelessly edgy bleed-out of self-indulgent misanthropy?

Time will tell, but if KamiErabi‘s first episode proves anything, it’s that it has enough style to be worth giving a shot. Although I’ll freely admit I’m not sure how many will make that leap. The show is a highly-stylized all-CG affair, and while this is not the instant death sentence it used to be in terms of general reception, it’s still a hard sell for a lot of people. Which is a shame! The show’s modeling and animation are very good, and I’d only point to a tiny handful of quibbles with regards to things like eyebrow clipping as faults in this regard. The series’ environments look stylish, too, with a minimalist color palette that tends to focus on making single colors pop at a time. Each main character has a distinctive image color, as well, both in their eyes and in underdye form in their hair. All told, KamiErabi looks pretty sharp.

What will probably draw folks in is the nebulous involvement of Nier: Automata creator Yoko Taro. I’m only passingly familiar with the man’s work, but nothing here sticks out to me as an obvious thumbprint of his. In terms of plot, what we have here is actually a fairly direct riff on the whole Future Diary1 setup. The show’s opening minutes aren’t worth recapping in detail, but they establish a few fundamentals; Gorou is a typical teenage boy, but also kind of a misogynist, and is an idol otaku obsessed with the singer Iyo Futana [she doesn’t show up in this episode, but the credits list her as played by Tomori Kusunoki, whose prior role as Love Live‘s Setsuna Yuki seems worth mentioning here] and also interested in a classmate of his named Honoka Sawa [Sara Matsumoto]. Interested enough, in fact, to be jealous when his own friend, the shark-toothed Yutaka Akitsu [Shuuichi Uchida] points out that she’s dating a soccer player. And jealous enough that, when the convenient plot machination of a wish-granting phone app pops up, much to his own skepticism, he still idly asks it to let him “fool around with Sawa-san.” Not a terribly pleasant guy, all things considered, although how much we’re supposed to identify with vs. be disgusted with the kid isn’t entirely obvious at this point (and does matter, as far as establishing the themes of this kind of story go).

Initially unbeknownst to Gorou, his wish actually was granted, and fate just so happens to convolute itself such that he can invite Sawa to a secluded location. From here, things get….weird. Weirder than they already were.

Sawa starts coming on to Gorou pretty strong, apparently influenced by the wish-granting app. Gorou (seemingly involuntarily? The visuals get confusing here) exposes himself (thankfully we don’t actually see anything), and is promptly interrupted by a literal exposition fairy named Lall [Ayane Sakura], who takes a moment to explain the whole Mirai Nikki-esque state of things.

And Gorou promptly freaks the fuck out—understandably so!—and runs away, protesting that he wants no part of this. Sawa follows him, not actually because she’s under the influence of the wishing app, as it turns out, but because she’s also one of the candidates. To prove her starter bad guy bona fides, she promptly kills an innocent bystander and uses some kind of arcane ritual to turn his corpse into a huge cleaver-sword-thing.

The battle scene that immediately ensues here is, unquestionably, the easy highlight of the episode. We can sit here and talk about the show’s actual writing (spotty) and directing (interesting but a bit confusing), but the fight here looks absolutely great, as Gorou runs through a version of the stages of grief for his own ordinary life; first just straight-up running, then trying to persuade Sawa that this whole thing is stupid, then passively accepting his impending death, and finally steeling himself to fight back (which he does with some kind of magic book, because KamiErabi is not keen on explaining itself).

At the end of all this, Sawa dies, although Gorou and his impish partner resurrect her somehow, possibly sans-memories of the whole death game thing, and the episode ends on a very sudden, uncertain note.

The specifics of any of that are deliberately unclear, and a brief explanation is offered only in passing, but the case seems to be that in return for Sawa coming back to life, Gorou is now living an altered life where everyone believes he sexually harassed her. There are a couple ways to take this. On the one hand, yeah, he’s genuinely taking the fall for someone else in a very immediate and direct way; he did literally save her life when he had no real moral obligation to do so given that she was trying to kill him. On the other, the show sure does seem to want to twist itself into knots to justify or at least excuse Gorou’s earlier, apparently completely genuine, misogynistic behavior.

Ultimately though, it’s too early to tell for certain what KamiErabi is going to do here, but the fact that Sawa hasn’t been entirely written out of the story is, itself, a good sign. Especially given that she, not Gorou, is the one with the real killer scene this episode. (Now, if the series proceeds to do nothing else with her for weeks and weeks, that’ll be another story entirely.)

All told, the gist of it is simply that while KamiErabi isn’t anywhere near the strongest premiere of the season so far, it’s definitely one of the most out-there. And while strangeness shouldn’t be confused for quality (a mistake I myself have made a few times this year), there is some inherent value in just not being afraid to get weird with it. KamiErabi is bizarre, lurid, stylish, and disturbing. And those are good words in my book, as far as evaluating an anime’s future prospects goes.


1: Many other works of fiction have since used this general premise of course, to the point that I think you could easily argue that the whole “god candidate” thing is its own subgenre within the broader death game setup. I’m not even entirely sure if Future Diary originated this trend or just popularized it.


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All views expressed on Magic Planet Anime are solely my own opinions and conclusions and should not be taken to reflect the opinions of any other persons, groups, or organizations. All text, excepting direct quotations, is owned by Magic Planet Anime. Do not duplicate without permission. All images are owned by their original copyright holders.

Seasonal First Impressions: A Lullaby For You To Come Back Home – Endings and Beginnings in FRIEREN: BEYOND JOURNEY’S END

Seasonal First Impressions is a column where I detail my thoughts, however brief or long, about a currently-airing anime’s first episode or so.


Wherefore the anime elf? This often-stylized archetype has been a standby of the medium, especially in the old-school fantasy genre, since the days of Record of Lodoss War. In Frieren: Beyond Journey’s End, the archetype finds perhaps its best representative in many years. Which would mean nothing were the show itself not very, very good, but thankfully, Frieren‘s premiere is not just one of the year’s best, it’s an incredibly emotional treatment of the concept, and consequently, an examination of the brevity of life itself. Of how regrets can pile up over the decades, and of the incredible importance of connecting with those who are still here while we can.

If you wanted to be pedantic, you could argue that Frieren has something of an unfair advantage when it comes to the inevitable forthcoming comparisons to the other anime premieres of this season. Its first four episodes were melded into a single contiguous block for their Japanese premiere, and even as some streaming services (both in Japan and overseas) have sliced them back up into four parts, it’s obvious that this is intended to be taken as a single chunk of narrative. Back when Oshi no Ko made the over-length premiere play in Spring, it was an act of gutsy arrogance; an announcement that this was a massive pop blockbuster event that demanded full attention. With Frieren, the aim is much quieter but no less ambitious; it is to emphasize the sheer scale of time on which this story takes place. By my count, the combined premiere contains around 5 time skips varying in length from 1 to almost 50 years. Over this loping timescale, the hero’s journey is rendered merely a prologue. By taking this approach, Frieren reveals itself to be part of a long legacy of fiction that emphasizes the transient and fleeting nature of life itself, while at the same time demonstrating how important the people we meet, the things we do, and the memories we make truly are, even if they are little more than dust on the wind.

I have to confess to being a complete and utter sucker for this particular thematic line, and you should read everything else I’m about to say accordingly. I am a kind of romantic at heart, and stories that deal with this sort of material almost always get me. Last year I praised Vampire in the Garden for a broadly similar approach, there focusing on romantic connection. The year before that, it was Heike Monogatari with its emphasis on the crushing weight of history. Further examples predate anime as a medium. It is a tale quite literally as old as human memory. People are here and then, one day, they are not. Art is one of the few ways to truly reckon with this.

As far as the actual plot, we should rendezvous with Frieren herself [Atsumi Tanezaki]. She was the wizard of an adventuring party that, as the anime opens, has just returned triumphant from defeating (of course) the Demon Lord. A fireworks show cheekily labels this joyous occasion as “Part 6” of a story that we will never get to see in full. That night, a shower of bright blue comets blazes through the sky; the fleeting fire is a symbol for the short lives of mankind, and to hammer it home, Frieren’s companion, the swordsman Himmel [Nobuhiko Okamoto] remarks that he wishes he had a better spot to see it from. Frieren offers to see the next shower with him, which Himmel recognizes but Frieren does not is far enough in the future that he will be old by then. And indeed, when we actually see that next occasion, a full 50 years later, Himmel is a hunched-over old man with a beard almost as long as the party dwarf’s. Frieren herself, of course, looks exactly the same.

Not long after that, Himmel passes away. Frieren attends his funeral service and is forcibly confronted with her own nigh-immortality. She laments that despite travelling together for a decade (a length of time she previously dismissed as a “mere” ten years), she never really knew Himmel at all, despite him considering her a close friend.

Later pieces of the premiere imply that the two harbored even deeper feelings for each other, but, really, this scene is pivotal enough that for a time, the original manga was known by its fan-scan name Frieren at the Funeral. This marks a shift in her worldview, if one she seems to struggle to actually incorporate into how she acts.

Heiter [Hiroki Touchi], the party’s cheerful (at least on the surface) cleric, struggles with the limits of his own mortality as he takes in a war orphan named Fern [Kana Ichinose]. Frieren is eventually convinced to take Fern on as an apprentice as Heiter lay on his death bed, and she is the second main character of this story.

Much of the premiere, in fact, consists of Frieren and Fern taking on various odd jobs. Frieren is rather fey in a way that elves in more poppy works tend not to be. She is an aimless loreminder, and travels throughout the land collecting spells. To her, something to heat up a cup of tea or turn sweet grapes sour is just as valuable as any great or destructive magic anyone could conjure. Similarly though, when either she or Fern are shown in deep concentration or meditation, they do so amongst nature.

That Frieren is so mindful of the natural side of spellcasting elevates it above most work that reduces magic to the merely flashy. This connection with nature becomes important when, at one point, the two search for a type of flower that Himmel was fond of to decorate a statue raised in his honor many years prior. The search takes months, and Fern, who has quickly grown into the more practical of the two, thinks it may be extinct. But sure enough, Frieren is able to find a hidden store of the pale blue beauties, and rescues the species from extinction. (The flowers are blue and seem to deliberately recall the comet earlier in the premiere; that’ll be another symbol for the tragic brevity of life, if you’re counting.)

The flowers are also important to Frieren’s actual goal throughout the premiere. As the story advances and Frieren repeatedly reflects on the departure of Himmel (and, indeed, Heiter), she resolves to retrace her adventure with Himmel nearly a century after the fact, before all sign of it fades away and is subsumed by time’s tides. This smoothing-out of all of history, good or bad, is another of the anime’s key ideas.

Another example; 80 years before the show’s present, Frieren and her companions sealed away a demon sage as part of their adventure, trapping him in stone. During the present day, when the seal begins to weaken, Frieren and her still-relatively-green apprentice are able to simply dispatch the demonic wizard with ease. The once-unthinkably destructive magic that the demon pioneered has since become a standard part of every magician’s arsenal. In some sense, his contribution to this branch of magical theory, stripped, perhaps deliberately, of any context by the march of time and tides of history, is the real “evil legacy” of the Demonic Kingdom. Of course, on the other hand, the magical analysis of this kind of spell has allowed it to be overcome in the form of the protective wards that Frieren and Fern cast to defend themselves, so it’s not all bad. Still, one must wonder if the demon sorcerer doesn’t in some sense get the last laugh here.

A similar flattening and smoothing is applied, very much in the other direction, to an utterly ancient genre-standard gag. A skirt-flipping brat 80 years in the past becomes the wizened old man leading the village where the demon is sealed in the present. Time, Frieren puts forward, takes the impact out of anything, be it atrocities or dumb pranks, for better or worse.

When the past becomes truly important, it argues, is when it is manifested in the present. A later tale sees Frieren making sure she can witness a New Year’s sunrise. Not because she has any desire to do so herself, but because she did not do this with her companions during her quest decades ago. In a sense, she’s righting a wrong; even if Fern has to almost literally drag her out of bed for this to happen.

Later on, the past meets the present in a more immediate and dramatic way when Frieren and Fern reconnect with the dwarf Eisen [Youji Ueda] (another member of Frieren’s old party, and the only one other than Frieren herself who is not deceased by the premiere’s end).

From that reunion, Frieren’s journey seems to go full circle. The late elf magician Flamme, Frieren’s own mentor, is a fascinating, looming presence over this story. She taught Frieren much of what she knows, and time and legend have ascribed to her the power to speak to the dead and physically visit heaven itself. In the end, a book she left behind sets Frieren on a new journey, once more, a “mere” ten years to the lands of the late Demon King, as she chases the trail of her dead mentor and, conveniently, still sticks to her goal of retracing her steps with Himmel’s group. Frieren’s journey begins again, a loop nearly a century in the making.

I would not be surprised if future episodes of Frieren are less direct with alluding to this particular circle. Then again, maybe they won’t be. Frieren is nothing if not holistic; no part of the premiere feels easy to divorce from any other part of it. It’s in a way criminal that I’ve held until now to speak about the show’s craftsmanship, which is absolutely superb. Keiichirou Saitou returns here, from his directorial debut with last year’s Bocchi the Rock! working in a very different mode, intent on capturing the beauty of a lived-in, weathered fantasy setting that feels utterly timeless. The series can be surprisingly funny, too, with a charming, character dynamic-based sense of humor that never overstays it’s welcome. These things add to the show’s immense capacity for resonance; be that in joy or sadness. At the end of the day, all of this is Frieren, and it all ties back to the series’ core themes. This is my life, this is your life. We are all on some journey to somewhere.


Like what you’re reading? Consider following Magic Planet Anime to get notified when new articles go live. If you’d like to talk to other Magic Planet Anime readers, consider joining my Discord server! Also consider following me on AnilistBlueSky, or Tumblr and supporting me on Ko-Fi or Patreon. If you want to read more of my work, consider heading over to the Directory to browse by category.

All views expressed on Magic Planet Anime are solely my own opinions and conclusions and should not be taken to reflect the opinions of any other persons, groups, or organizations. All text, excepting direct quotations, is owned by Magic Planet Anime. Do not duplicate without permission. All images are owned by their original copyright holders.

Anime Orbit Seasonal Check-in: The Strange Transformation of LEVEL 1 DEMON LORD AND ONE-ROOM HERO

Anime Orbit is an irregular column where I summarize a stop along my journey through anime, manga, and the related spheres of popular culture over the past week.

Expect spoilers for covered material, where relevant.


Of all the anime from this season I thought I would still be writing about several months deep, this was maybe the last on the list. I didn’t even do a first impressions piece on Level 1 Demon Lord & One-Room Hero back when it premiered! To be honest, I simply wasn’t that taken with its first episode. There, the series sets up its central conceit; typical JRPG-style fantasy hero experiences gifted-kid burnout and grows up into a total slacker (same, dude), and is harassed into shaping up by the reincarnated form of his former nemesis. Together, they are the titular One-Room Hero, Max [Yuuichi Nakamura], and Level 1 Demon Lord, usually just referred to as that, but who we’ll call Maou, going by some info from AniList [Naomi Oozora]. (I think “Maou” might literally just mean “Lord” or something, but whatever.) That first episode was decently funny, but it wasn’t anything revolutionary. And its second followed suit; it was notably horny, for sure. And in terms of technical presentation, it was well-done (worth noting in the depths of production delays and jank that have defined much of the season), but it seemed like that was about all it was.

But, I kept watching, on and off, and the show started to take a very odd turn. The third episode introduced the show’s first proper arc, and it was here that, while retaining its signature zany comedy, the series started to take on a different tone as well. Beginning with the introduction of Fred [Yoshitsugu Matsuoka], one of Max’s former companions and, presently, a stooge for the government of the kingdom that they once all fought for, the series begins to question what would actually happen to the heroes of a traditional fantasy story if, indeed, they defeated the big bad guy and saved the day.

One-Room Hero postulates that they’d be rewarded with positions of influence, and it’s what they do with those positions that gives the series its unique identity; one-half a sharp, witty look at contemporary geopolitics as filtered through a typical fantasy world (albeit one with cars, cellphones, and the internet), and one-half a screwball comedy about a burned-out slacker. Max squanders his position. Fred becomes a behind-the-scenes power player interested in the kingdom’s welfare before anything else, including any kind of morality. Another former companion, Leo [Hiro Shimono], leads the breakaway Republic of Gamma, situated in heavily-terraformed former wasteland. The fate of the fourth, Yuria [Ami Koshimizu], has yet to be elaborated upon.

Thus, One-Room Hero becomes the vanishingly rare contemporary fantasy anime to actually try to address the sorts of things that monarchies—the most common form of government in fantasy anime—actually do. Specifically; the show’s wit for satirizing imperialism is shockingly pointed. This is most obvious with the ongoing Kingdom / Gamma conflict. You had better believe that, while nothing here is clean black and white, the show largely takes the Gammaites’ side. Leo is repeatedly shown to be pushing for a peaceful end to Gamma’s ongoing conflict with the Kingdom, whose forces are generally portrayed as unreasonable and only interested in Gamma at all because what they once dismissed as a wasteland happens to actually be chockablock with useful natural resources. (“Magic ore” here. I guess making it oil would’ve been a little too on the nose.) In episode 7, a government minister—unsubtly named Grimm—on the side of the kingdom approaches Fred and mentions that he’s working out a peace deal with the Gammaite government. He’s not, of course; in actuality, the visit sets up a false-flag terrorist attack that drives Fred to become an even more brutal and sinister agent of his nation. This as a capstone to an episode that is mostly about side character Zenia [Youko Hikasa] comedically failing to be a spy.

That attack, of course, is perfect pretense for war, which every important character on both sides of the conflict is well aware of. The buildup to the inevitable comprises most of episode 8, and that, as of the time of this writing, is where things stand. The show has never lost its comedic edge (and it remains egregiously horny), but it’s also genuinely pretty tense at the moment, as it heads into what is presumably its final arc. (The manga is still being released, of course, so there is presumably more after that. Still, we’re obviously hitting a big breaking point in the story.)

All told, between its genuine comedic chops and its cynical, satirical look at the modern political landscape, there’s an awful lot to like about One-Room Hero. Admittedly, the aforementioned horniness is going to put some people off, which I do understand—there really are a lot of pervy camera angles—but I don’t personally think it’s a huge dent in the show.

I won’t blow smoke and say that One-Room Hero is necessarily essential viewing. But I do think it’s quite good, and between this and Helck, it’s been a solid season for amusingly offbeat fantasy anime with a more serious undertone than you might expect. That’s a pretty specific thing for a season to be good for, but it’s worth a lot in what has, overall, been a rather weak year for the medium. There have been obvious standouts of course, but if One-Room Hero proves anything, it’s that even in apparent dry spells, there are often anime that remain under-sung and overlooked.


Like what you’re reading? Consider following Magic Planet Anime to get notified when new articles go live. If you’d like to talk to other Magic Planet Anime readers, consider joining my Discord server! Also consider following me on TwitterMastodonCohostAnilist, or Tumblr and supporting me on Ko-Fi or Patreon. If you want to read more of my work, consider heading over to the Directory to browse by category.

All views expressed on Magic Planet Anime are solely my own opinions and conclusions and should not be taken to reflect the opinions of any other persons, groups, or organizations. All text, excepting direct quotations, is owned by Magic Planet Anime. Do not duplicate without permission. All images are owned by their original copyright holders.

I’m Burned Out, and I Want to Talk About It

Header image from Lupin III: The Woman Called Fujiko Mine. I haven’t finished it, so please no spoilers!


This is not a goodbye. At least not permanently, but things are going to be slowing down significantly here on Magic Planet Anime, and that very well might be permanent.

There are a lot of reasons for this, which we can broadly sort into the emotional and material. The former are more relevant to why any of you actually read this stuff, so let’s start there.

I have been, as I alluded to in last year’s Year-End Ranking article, very depressed for quite a long while now (we’ll get to why in a bit), and it’s seriously impacted my ability to keep up with seasonals on a simple schedule basis, and it’s also really dented my ability to follow even very simple plotlines of what I am watching. I get very bad “brain fog,” and it sucks. I frequently miss entire lines of dialogue and find myself having to rewind what I’m watching, etc. This has also dinged how much I actually enjoy these anime, because if I’m not keeping the plot straight I am having a much harder time parsing anything deeper than the literal goings-on. The haze is real, and it sucks.

By and large, I still like most anime I actually finish, but the amount of anime I do finish per season has been dropping for a while now, and even if I like a show, keeping up with it can feel like a chore because of all this. At this point, I’m a fair bit behind on even some shows I’ve really enjoyed this season, like Yohane the Parhelion. Instead, I’ve increasingly turned into one of those people who watches random old anime I hadn’t previously seen. (Not for nothing is my Devil Lady article one of the better things I’ve written recently.)

None of this is to say that I’m about to turn into one of those people who only watches Patlabor and berates others for watching anything made after the switch to digipaint, but it’s hard not to notice the change. And I guess, really, that is what this article is about. Because while this is not a goodbye, it is definitely the start of a different, slower phase of Magic Planet Anime’s existence. I do still want to write, but I want to feel like I don’t have to write quite as much. Possibly not nearly as much. Accordingly; another part of what I’m doing here is just giving myself permission to write a less if it will (hopefully) make what I actually do write a little better. I have no delusions about turning into the greatest anime critic who ever lived overnight, but maybe I can finally dream up some things to say about anime that are not “this sucks”, “this is pretty good”, or “this is weird;” a pattern that I feel I’ve been stuck in for the past good while. There is more to this medium than those three points on the chart.

All this to say; I need to do some soul searching. I don’t really have a strong idea of what I want this site to be or accomplish anymore, and that really sucks. I feel like “I just want to write about anime” is not quite enough anymore. So I’m putting a lot of it on hold. I’m definitely not going to be doing any weekly watches this season—although you’ve probably guessed that by now—and my other columns are going to be very sporadic things. Probably coming out in occasional fits and spurts when I manage to get my head sorted for a week or two. I want to get a Year-End List out again this year, but beyond that, I really don’t want to promise anything at all.

With a few half-exceptions; I have a few commissions that I still need to finish, and my ongoing podcast projects with Sredni are going to continue (however slowly or quickly that may be), but otherwise, I am releasing myself from all of my imagined writing “commitments.” All I have done is stress myself out for no good reason, at the end of the day. I want to care more about whether what I’m writing is any good than I do if I’m putting out 2 articles a month or 20. My hope is that, however many or few pieces I write over the remainder of 2023, those that do go up will at least give you something to appreciate or think about. There will be more articles this year, and I’m hoping that maybe putting the brakes on my attempts to be ‘relevant’ will make those articles that do come out more interesting, whether they’re involved analyses or off-the-cuff ramblings.

So, those are the personal reasons. What about the material ones?

Agh.

Dear reader, have you ever been considered a legal non-entity by your state government? No? I recommend avoiding it, if at all possible.

I don’t want to go into too many details here, but suffice it to say, the ten-car pileup of health problems, legal issues, and the intertangling thereof that plagued me last year has only gotten worse this year. This is definitely a massive contributing factor to my stress, and I have spent a decent chunk of this year so depressed that I have genuinely wondered if I’m ever going to sort this out, and I’ll cop to having contemplated suicide more than once.

For complex reasons, a lot of the basic necessities of being an adult in the US (health insurance, a driver’s license or equivalent, and a steady income, just to name a few) are denied to me. That’s all been true for pretty much the entire time I’ve been working on this site, and maybe that, more than the fiddlier and more emotional stuff, is the real reason I should be setting much of what I do on this site aside for a while. Not that the two aren’t intertwined; I’m starting to hit my limit with how much more of this crap I can take, and it’s definitely been affecting me mentally, as outlined above.

So, all of that is the very long version. I hope you’ll forgive me for being reluctant to offer a shorter one this time around, I think conveying the context for why I’m doing this is important, since I didn’t want to feel like I was just abandoning all of my regular readers to the wind. And as a result, I really struggled with putting this article together. (I had to cut a bunch of stuff that I imagine would’ve come off as just overly self-deprecatory, among other things. I’m not trying to commit emotional self-harm, here.) But in spite of everything, I’m pretty optimistic. I think—much like last year—I really just need some time away, and to do some reflecting on what I really want to do with my life, and how Magic Planet Anime fits into those plans.

I think I’ve gotten my point across by now, more or less. To a future filled with fewer, but hopefully better articles. To my own mental health. And to a brighter tomorrow. If I round up, I’m nearly 30. But life doesn’t end there, and otakudom doesn’t have to either.

See you when I see you, anime fans.


Like what you’re reading? Consider following Magic Planet Anime to get notified when new articles go live. If you’d like to talk to other Magic Planet Anime readers, consider joining my Discord server! Also consider following me on TwitterMastodonCohostAnilist, or Tumblr and supporting me on Ko-Fi or Patreon. If you want to read more of my work, consider heading over to the Directory to browse by category.

All views expressed on Magic Planet Anime are solely my own opinions and conclusions and should not be taken to reflect the opinions of any other persons, groups, or organizations. All text, excepting direct quotations, is owned by Magic Planet Anime. Do not duplicate without permission. All images are owned by their original copyright holders.

The Shambolic Anime Podcast [7/17/23] – “Liar, Liar”

The Shambolic Anime Podcast is a super-casual occasional format where myself and Julian M. of THEM Anime chat about whatever’s on our mind in the world of anime.


Today, on our inagural episode of this decidedly off-the-cuff, super-casual anime podcast, myself and Julian M. (of THEM Anime Reviews, previously also co-host of KeyFrames Forgotten and Revisiting Darling in the FranXX 5 Years Later. Both of which we intend to return to, I assure you!) shoot the breeze about one of the few things from this anime season that is neither particularly good nor entirely awful, the game battle light novel adaptation Liar, Liar. You can listen below.


You can follow Jane on Twitter here and Julian on Twitter here.

(REVIEW) Exorcising THE DEVIL LADY

This review contains spoilers for the reviewed material. This is your only warning.


Sometimes, random chance just brings something to your doorstep.

I didn’t intend The Devil Lady to be my introduction to the Devilman series (or Go Nagai‘s work in general, for that matter). I simply happened to stumble upon a few episodes airing on one of PlutoTV‘s live channels, thought it looked interesting, and dived into it without much further thought. In all honesty, this is less of a review in the usual sense and more an attempt to just straighten out my own thoughts. (Although, re-reading this again a day after I first wrote it, aren’t they all?) I don’t regret watching the series, that much is certain, but it definitely steps on some pretty hot issues, likely without entirely intending to, and during the course of writing this I’ve learned some things that have recontextualized my already pretty-jumbled thoughts on even those elements. This is a complicated one, for better and worse in equal measure.

Part of all that is simply a consequence of its tone; Devil Lady is a bleak anime, presenting a kind of largely lightless action-horror that doesn’t really exist in this medium anymore. Moments of peace are a rarity, any kind of levity even more so, and while it has the general shape and structure of a transforming hero series, our heroine is a flawed one, indeed, a person thrust into an inescapable position of responsibility she never wanted and trapped under the glass to be prodded at by various sinister agents.

The plot itself goes something like this; Jun [Junko Iwao], a fashion model, has her life turned upside-down after she encounters a raving mad half-man half-monster, known as a Devil Beast. She herself carries a latent “Devil Gene”, the biological marker that turns ordinary humans into these dangerous mutants, but instead of becoming a full-on Beast herself, she becomes a hybrid, a Devil-man if you will, still in control of her senses and strong enough to give the full Beasts a run for their money. Consequently, she is drafted by a secretive government agency to fight against the Beasts and keep the streets of Tokyo safe, at the beck and call of her handler Asuka [Kaoru Shimamura], who is clearly not on the level.

This starts as rather typical—if notably dark—superhero fare. Jun’s identity as the Devil Lady is a secret, and her life starts falling apart as she tries to juggle her modeling work with her nighttime battles with Beasts, and she finds it incredibly hard to accept her very literal inner demon for what it is. She also takes in Kazumi [Kazusa Murai], a teen model who, early on, loses her parents to a Beast attack and moves in with Jun, becoming her half-problematic love interest/half-surrogate little sister—a combination of dynamics exactly as complicated and fraught as it sounds—who serves as Jun’s main lifeline to her own humanity as the war against the Beasts continues to escalate. Before long, it becomes obvious that different parts of the government, a sinister faction of other Devilmen, and Asuka’s own interests, are all working against each other for the fate of Tokyo, and it increasingly becomes obvious, mankind itself.

As things progress, it becomes impossible to hide the existence of the Devil Gene and first Tokyo and then Japan in general fall under martial law (complete with a mandatory vaccination against the Devil Gene which, boy, that is a scene that would hit very differently and much worse if it were written today). By its narrative endgame, Devil Lady has progressed into full-on biblical fare with God’s plans for the future of the human race and the physical location of Hell itself serving important roles. In terms of simple narrative progression, this is all pretty campy, but it works well enough.

Really, the upsides here are obvious in general. If all you’re really looking for is to see a hot lady clock some truly grotesque-looking monsters, you’re in the right place. Jun in her Devil Lady form is drop-dead gorgeous, and I doubt I’ll be the last lesbian to swoon over her toned physique and the half-feral demeanor she carries with her into battle. (Also; she fights in the nude and her clothes rip to shreds in lovingly-animated detail every time she transforms. So yes, this is very much an intentional draw of the series.)

Jun here seen crushing the head of an insect monster that I wish was me.

Excellent fight choreography throughout makes sure that watching her slug it out with wolfmen, two-headed dinosaur monsters, busty harpy-dragons, and all manner of other Devil Beasts never gets old, and she even sometimes assumes a skyscraper-sized kaiju form known as the “Giga Effect”, where she gains a blue-and-black color scheme and some cool lightning powers. There’s some stuff in here that really tries to earn the “horror” part of its “action-horror” genre tag, too. One particular moment early on where Kazumi’s mother is killed by having her eyes and mouth filled with writhing centipedes is going to weed out anyone with a weak stomach pretty quick. All of this is drawn up with a dark, moody color palette that sets the show’s timbre perfectly, and it usually looks pretty good, too. (A few iffier-looking episodes are clearly outsourced to another studio. Some things never change.) If you’re just wondering if Devil Lady is entertaining and don’t particularly care if it’s schlocky or not, there’s really nothing else to be said; with a literally hot-as-hell protagonist and a sharp visual style, it passes that particular test with flying colors.

The writing however, is a lot more spotty. Jun herself is a very solid protagonist; widely admired but unable to accept either the circumstances under which she comes into her powers nor the responsibilities placed on her by them, she is a deeply conflicted, moody woman. (Which of course, sometimes turns into white-hot rage as Devil Lady.) Her real main flaws are a lack of willpower and an inability to come to terms with her situation, a somewhat unusual basis for the lead in something like this, but not an unwelcome one, as it gives her an immediately legible emotional depth that’s easy for even those in very different situations to relate to. She suffers a lot over the course of Devil Lady, and the show gets much of its emotional strength from the sheer depth of the loss she endures.

Which is great in terms of writing Jun herself, and indeed, every other character in the show is defined by their relationship to her, and for some of these characters those connections are perfectly believable, but for others they are very much not. We’ve already mentioned Kazumi, who probably comes out the strongest-written member of the cast overall. But other characters, like Jun’s modeling manager Tatsuya [Naoya Uchida], who eventually falls for her in a pretty hard-to-buy love subplot, just don’t add much at all, and mostly just serve to clutter things up or to tick expected boxes. Probably the worst of the small group of important male characters is Jason Bates [Ryuusei Nakao] another Devilman who repeatedly tries to get with Jun in a just generally unpleasant manner. He’s just flatly unlikable and doesn’t really add anything to the show.

Important side note: His Devil form is ugly as hell. Look at that hair. Eugh.

And then there’s Asuka, initially Jun’s handler in the early part of the series when she’s a Beast hunter, and eventually the main antagonist. Asuka is….a lot. You can think of her, in very broad terms, as a cold, calculating strategist who sets the show’s overarching plot in motion from the word “go” and remains in command of it until the closing minutes of the last episode. If you think of her as sort of an ancestor of, say, Makima from Chainsaw Man, you’re in at least the right ballpark. Asuka’s motives remain elusive throughout much of the story, and by the time we finally learn what they are, the series has taken a hard left turn into some Angels & Demons nonsense. More relevant to discussing the issues with her as-written though is one little detail; she’s not cis.

The story is a bit unclear on specifics, but it appears that Asuka is an intersex person who was raised as a man and then transitioned to identifying as a woman. Lumping different sorts of non-cis people together was common in Devil Lady‘s day, so perhaps we cannot fault the show for a lack of specificity, but we absolutely can fault it for falling back on the old, repulsive “transgender rapist” cliché. As in the series’ penultimate episode, Asuka forces herself on Jun, given a very loose plot “justification” with hokey “an angel and a devil fucking ends the world” crap. This is the series’ one big misstep, and god, how I wish it were not in here.

Look; I love a toxic female villain, you can make a woman do the most horrible shit imaginable and I will squeal and clap and post on tumblr about how I support women’s wrongs. But that is the one line that you really cannot cross without it causing some serious issues for your story. It’s also just totally unnecessary! Asuka already had a personal interest in Jun that clearly ran deeper than just her plans for her. There was actual tension there, and in the ambiguous space of tension you leave a lot of fertile room for interpretation; a sort of Schrodinger’s Yuri where two characters might be genuinely mutually attracted to each other or it might just all be illusory, manipulation on the part of one character or the other. Making her cross that line shatters all of that in the worst possible way, making the dynamic itself much weaker as a result and retroactively collapsing any interpretive space into “well, she was just a creep all along,” making Asuka herself a weaker character with a worse motive. Some will of course argue that Asuka, as a villain, should be expected to act villainously, but narratively, the problem is not that this act makes her evil, it’s that it makes her less interesting. All told, there are different kinds of transgression, and this is one of the worse and more exploitative ones. (That is without even getting into how these stereotypes harm actual trans and intersex people, an entire other topic I could fill whole other articles with.)

Am I a fool for expecting more from something like this, which is clearly trying to aim for a primarily male audience with anyone else as an afterthought? Maybe, but it did genuinely sour me on the series, particularly its last few episodes, pretty notably. I don’t think it ruins the show, but it definitely makes it worse.

Which sucks! Because, as mentioned, there’s a lot to like here on a pure entertainment level and, again as said, some of the writing is actually pretty strong. It’s just that this takes the show firmly into “it’s complicated” territory, which is not somewhere it really needs to have been confined to.

On the other hand, does that make the show worthless? Well, no. I can say all I’ve said, and I can even point to additional, pretty obvious, problems with writing women—not one but two villains of the week are lesbians who are “obsessed” with Jun, which I guess really should’ve clued me in as to where they were going with Asuka, and a third is a serial killer who feeds her victims to her Devil Beast brother as part of a Weird Sex Thing™—but even all of these issues in mind, the show does also write Jun and Kazumi’s relationship pretty warmly. That relationship has its own problems, Jun is a fair bit older than Kazumi, and Kazumi spends much of the show emotionally traumatized, but there is a sincerity and grace that the two are depicted with that wouldn’t be there if this was a show that was actively, intentionally hateful. I am inclined, in spite of everything, to chalk the bad ideas up to being just that. Hurtful bad ideas, don’t get me wrong, but ‘just’ bad ideas nonetheless.

So, are Devil Lady‘s fairly serious flaws forgivable in light of what it does right? Well, that’s going to depend on the person. For me, I’d say the series is absolutely still a worthy entry in the dark end of the urban fantasy space in anime, but it is unfortunately the sort of thing I’m reluctant to recommend to others. Still, that kind of judgment isn’t everything, and at the end of the long night, this whole “gun to your head, is the show Good or Bad?” criticism has never been my preferred mode of things anyway, and I’m always a little disappointed in myself whenever I lapse into it. What you have here is a show that promises a lot, delivers on much but not all of it, hurts you in ways both good and bad, and leaves you with a lot to think about. There are much, much worse things for a show to be than that.

Devil Lady doesn’t seem to have ever garnered even a notable fraction of the fandom of its parent series has, and various incarnations of Jun have been limited to very minor roles in other Devilman fiction (she was the co-lead of a crossover oneshot in 2013; Devil Lady vs. Cutie Honey, and a character based on her appeared in Devilman Grimoire. Of course, these both seem to derive from the manga version of Jun, who is a very different character starring in a very different story).

I’d be unwilling to say that Devil Lady has left no legacy, though. I’d be very surprised if the creators of the Witchblade anime—another dark urban fantasy action anime with an attractive female lead that was a spinoff of a better-known parent franchise—weren’t at least aware of it. And I wouldn’t be entirely shocked if some tiny sliver of Asuka’s cold, manipulative characterization, especially from the forehalf of the show, has wound up in a few characters from the darker end of modern battle shonen. (Such as, as previously alluded to, Makima.) This is guesswork, but the timetables line up and given how widely influential Devilman on the whole is in anime and manga, it doesn’t seem like a huge stretch to me.

A postscript; with one last thing about Asuka. While writing this piece, I discovered that the character was one of just a handful of major roles that her voice actress, Kaoru Shimamura, ever had. Before Devil Lady, she seems to have been limited to supporting roles. And after Devil Lady, she doesn’t seem to have been in much else before sadly passing away in 2013 due to breast cancer.

Despite any problems I may have with how the character is written, Shimamura plays Asuka excellently, giving the character a cold, matter-of-fact menace and charisma that perfectly suits her. It’s easy to lament what could’ve been, but it should be remembered that the entertainment industry is fickle, and even very marginal fame is often fleeting. If all Devil Lady did for me personally was to highlight this woman’s career, no matter how short it may have been, then maybe that’s all it really needed to do.

“Random chance” is a hell of a thing.


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All views expressed on Magic Planet Anime are solely my own opinions and conclusions and should not be taken to reflect the opinions of any other persons, groups, or organizations. All text, excepting direct quotations, is owned by Magic Planet Anime. Do not duplicate without permission. All images are owned by their original copyright holders.

Seasonal First Impressions: The Apocalypse as Liberation – ZOM 100: BUCKET LIST OF THE DEAD is the Season’s First Must-Watch

Seasonal First Impressions is a column where I detail my thoughts, however brief or long, about a currently-airing anime’s first episode or so.


Oh thank god, an unequivocal winner.

Listen; there have been a few things this season that I thought were decent, or have potential. Some have even been pretty good. But most of what’s premiered so far this season has been bad. Very bad. Evidence of the production bubble at its absolute bubbliest, some of which barely even functions as coherent television.

But we’re not here to talk about those anime, which I’m not going to even bother to name. It is really nice, and much more important, to have a premiere that is just no-frills awesome. There are a few complaints one could make, and I’ll get to those, but for the most part Zom 100, the debut series from brand-new studio BUG FILMS (but directed by the formerly OLM-affiliated Kazuki Kawagoe, of Komi Can’t Communicate fame), is just a kickass premiere with a ton of style and energy that sets up a lot of interesting possibilities for its world and its main character, the now-ex-salaryman Akira Tendou [Shuichirou Umeda]. It’s easily the strongest premiere of the season, and you could argue it’s the strongest of the entire year without much trouble.

The premise here is very simple. Akira joins a commercial production company after graduating college. This is his dream job, he wants to write commercial scenarios and make big bucks off of it. (I’m not gonna pretend I intuitively understand that, but hey, live and let live.) At first blush, the company he joins seems pretty good. He’s got motivated coworkers, a pretty company senior, one Saori Ootori [Sora Amamiya], in another department that he harbors a huge crush on from the moment their eyes meet, and, as mentioned, this is the career he’s always wanted to have. Things seem to be going okay.

Of course, they’re not, actually. He discovers quite quickly that the corporation he works for is a “black company,” although he’s strongly in denial about it. He and his coworkers pull lengthy all-nighters, sometimes for several days in a row, without overtime pay. Many of them are addled with addictions to energy boosters, and they openly brag to each other about their poor health. His boss is a truly, profoundly arrogant Middle Manager type who screams his head off at the slightest excuse. Oh, and his boss is having an affair with Saori. Sometimes they even go at it in the office itself. Gross.

So, all told, Akira is decidedly not having a good time, and the show, rather than just having him monologue, shows us this directly. As he keeps losing more and more sleep, he gets bags under his eyes, his movements become sluggish, and his gaze bugs out. The rare spare hours he has are spent binging movies on his laptop, as he’s too tired to do much of anything else. Days pile into weeks, which pile into months, and then years. Three years into his job, Akira’s days pass in a wholly undifferentiated depressive blur. Long work hours slaving over constantly-rewritten commercial scripts crash into shouting superiors, grainy late-night commercials, mental health PSAs, and zombie movies.

Eventually, they bleed into each other; the world fades to monochrome and the television won’t display anything but a mass of writhing scribbles, and the sound of Akira’s boss screaming at him. As he goes to sleep every night he sincerely prays that he just won’t wake up. Our man is out-and-out suicidal, no subtext here, that’s just true. Through all of this, the world remains in a fuzzed out black and white.

And then, one day, prompted by his bike being confiscated because he forgot to pay for his parking space, he wanders into his landlord’s apartment.

And promptly sees her corpse being gnawed on by the living dead. No time is devoted to how’s or why’s—the zombie apocalypse is upon us.

Akira is thrilled.

Color returns to his world as insane hyper-violence unfolds all around him. He dashes through his apartment complex, dodging the living dead as he climbs up to the roof top just in time to see a huge passenger plane go down. The whole time, he effortlessly fights off the zombies that actually try to attack him, and he’s absolutely ecstatic, practically walking on air and claiming that he sees the world in color for the first time in forever, adding “red blood” to the traditional “blue sky, green trees” chestnut. The world has ended, and Akira is free. (If that seems like a little much in terms of physical feats for an office worker, please know that Akira biked to work every day and played rugby in college. After whole generations of otaku-caricature protagonists filling the everyman role, it’s nice to have a self-described jock playing the lead instead.)

He has one lingering tie he wants to sever to the old world before deciding what to do next, and that’s with his crush, a flame he’s kept alive for these three years, Saori. Combing through the records at his old office, he finds her address and bikes over to check on her. He is, plainly put, too late, both Saori and Akira’s old boss alike have been zombified before he gets there. Even this, though, is bizarrely heartening. There’s an absolutely amazing laugh-out-loud moment here, where Akira encounters the bloated zombie of his boss. And he dramatically—even gracefully!—announces his “resignation” from his office job, and then promptly gives him a fucking incredible rugby tackle, pushing him out a window, and flashing back to his college days as the dead bastard goes flying onto the streets below.

His reunion with Saori’s zombie is more bittersweet, confessing to the now-dead OL that he’s kept her in his heart all these years. With that, and a theatrical—weirdly emotional?—cry of “goodbye, my first love!” he flees from her zombie, as he can’t bring himself to hurt her, even in her current state.

Settling down at an abandoned convenience store, he loots some food and, more importantly, a notebook and a marker. Akira is not one to stay in one place, now that the red tape of society has broken down. He’s got things he wants to do.

100 of them, in fact.

Throughout, the premiere never lets up for even a single second. We are practically hard-wired into Akira’s own brain through the entire sequence of events here, from optimistic entrance to the workforce, total burnout, and gleeful liberation as the zombie apocalypse breaks out. He might be totally delusional about how much fun he’s going to have, but honestly, I kind of feel him!

I don’t have an office job, but I’ve been struggling against a different kind of bureaucracy for years at this point. (If you’ve never tried to live anywhere in the US without a driver’s license or equivalent thereof, and cannot get one for complicated reasons, I do not recommend the experience. It sucks, and is the root cause of almost all of my personal problems.) Maybe I’d jump for joy if the world ended, too! Maybe I’d be right there with him.

That’s not to say the premiere is completely flawless. There’s arguably some Stuff going on with the writing of women here. Akira himself doesn’t judge Saori for sleeping with her boss (those kind of abuses of power are uniformly the superior’s fault anyway), so he’s in the clear, but the show itself sure sees fit to kill her for that. I’d want more evidence before strongly claiming that Zom 100 has “an issue with writing women,” but you could build a case if you wanted to. I’m not yet inclined to, but it’s worth at least keeping in mind.

Honestly though, even that much feels like a quibble. There’s an interesting, instructive difference between Zom 100 and last season’s big post-apoc show, Heavenly Delusion. That series, which I did not write about extensively, seems to float the thesis that people are people even in desperate situations. That can be a good or a bad thing, depending on what that person and that situation are, (and that series puts its characters in some very dire situations indeed) but it seems to treat this as an immutable fact. Zom 100, which is after all, an action-comedy anime, takes a much more optimistic view of the dim future. Maybe, it says, things will be better. Maybe, in such a dire circumstance, we could finally find the time, the energy, and the courage, to do the things we really want to do. It’s not an intellectual argument, it’s one from the heart.

And honestly? Part of me finds that more convincing. Maybe, indeed.


Like what you’re reading? Consider following Magic Planet Anime to get notified when new articles go live. If you’d like to talk to other Magic Planet Anime readers, consider joining my Discord server! Also consider following me on Twitter, Tumblr, or Anilist, and supporting me on Ko-Fi or Patreon. If you want to read more of my work, consider heading over to the Directory to browse by category. If you have any questions about this or any article, feel free to leave a comment, or pop on over to my RetroSpring and ask me there. It’s up to you!

All views expressed on Magic Planet Anime are my own opinions and conclusions and should not be taken to reflect the opinions of any other persons, groups, or organizations. All text, excepting direct quotations, is owned by Magic Planet Anime. Do not duplicate without permission. All images are owned by their original copyright holders.

Seasonal First Impressions: Does REIGN OF THE SEVEN SPELLBLADES Pass the Entrance Exam?

Seasonal First Impressions is a column where I detail my thoughts, however brief or long, about a currently-airing anime’s first episode or so.


What do you think of the “magic school” genre?

In the Anglosphere, it will probably unfortunately be associated for quite a while longer with the Harry Potter novels. Mostly unfortunate because of their author’s utterly appalling views on trans people. Elsewhere in the world however, there is no such association, and indeed there is an absolute ton of light novel material in this genre, most of which never leaves that format but some of which does, including, just from a quick glance around Anilist, The Irregular at Magic High School, The Misfit of Demon King Academy, Akashic Records of Bastard Magic Instructor, etc. You get the picture.

All this to say; Spellblades is very much a product of its own immediate environment more than anything else. Which is itself to say; Spellblades strikes me as incredibly basic from this first episode. But, given some developments in its final few minutes, there is a non-zero chance that it’s Doing Something by actually just pretending to be incredibly basic. Such is the inherent frustration of “non-indicative” first episodes. Which this might not even be, because other than spoiling myself by looking up the source material1, there’s really no way to tell beyond trying to play detective.

So, why not? Let’s review the evidence. First, we’ll start with the “it’s actually just that basic” argument.

Point 1, the characters; we have an incredibly simple clutch of archetypes here. They are all given just enough to say over the course of this episode that they don’t feel like complete cardboard cutouts, but we’re still working in very well established territory here. We have Oliver Horn [Atsushi Tamaru], our lead, who is a Very Nice Boy, compassionate to the point that he’s honestly kind of hard to like. Oliver spends most of the episode bouncing off of other characters and is by far the one we learn the least about, but he’s such a swell bro that he actually tucks his roommate into bed. (You’re not his mom, man, that’s just weird!) Next, we have Katie Aalto [Hitomi Oowada], who loves animals and has crazy ideas like “the school probably shouldn’t enslave sentient beings.” (We’ll come back to that bit.) There is of course also Guy Greenwood [Shinsuke Sugawara], who is the “hot-blooded” son of a farmer and gets very very upset at Katie’s aforementioned ideas. There’s Pete Reston [Riho Sugiyama], son of a pair of non-wizards and the archetypal studious guy with white hair. There is also Michela McFarlane2, a drill-haired off-the-shelf ojou who ends most of her sentences with desu wa. Lastly, there’s Nanao Hibiya [Yuka Nukui], who you can probably discern just from her name is the token student from fantasy-Japan. We’ll circle back around to her in a bit, but for now, just now that she has a sword, and is very dumb and absolutely loves to eat. She’s basically a stock shonen protagonist but a girl.

Point 2, the setting. Other than the sickly-sweet amount of colorful saturation, there is not a ton that distinguishes Spellblades‘ world from any other light novel series with a broadly western fantasy-derived setting. Honestly, even a few little personal touches would’ve been nice, but with two exceptions (talking, rude trees, and clock-nocks, little fairies that live in clocks), every single creature here is something I’ve seen in dozens of anime—and well beyond that—over the years.

Not to mention, Kimberly Academy, as the show’s wizard school is called, is itself set in yet another god damn city surrounded by a circular wall. Just in case you didn’t get your fill of those from the 3,000 other fantasy light novel adaptations that have aired since the decade began.

Point 3, the Troll Scene. Ugh. So, when our lovely little potato patch of protagonists pops over to their entrance ceremony, they’re treated to a parade of magical creatures. Perfectly fine—some of them, like the dragon, even look pretty cool—but, ah, one of the “creatures” in said parade is a troll. In this context, a giant guy who just happens to be green and angry. Hermione Katie sees this and takes immediate, justified offense, loudly arguing to anyone in earshot that trolls should not be paraded through the street like common animals, because they are thinking beings, just like humans. Guy angrily replies that this is fine because trolls are dangerous, don’t “speak our language”, and their being bent to the will of humanity is “only natural.” In the midst of that, a mysterious hooded figure curses Katie’s feet(!) sending her uncontrollably running straight toward the troll, which freaks out at being so provoked, and is promptly knocked unconscious by a group effort from Nanao and the other students. (Nanao, it must be mentioned, uses some kind of sword magic that changes the color of her hair. Neat.) The troll is not directly mentioned again after this.

Now, in theory, I think people should be able to write whatever they want. But, that also means all things are open to fair criticism. So; I have said this before on this blog, I will probably say it again, you cannot use fantasy species as a racism metaphor. That is a thing that we, collectively, human civilization, have to discard from our art. It just doesn’t work. It is perhaps the most overused and ill-considered analogy in fantasy fiction, and as an actual plot it is, on top of all that, just not any interesting. Especially if the side being discriminated against has no chance to ever get a word in, which seems like it will be the case here.

Unless, of course, Spellblades is Doing Something. Let’s now consider the points for that argument.

Directly relevant to the Troll Scene is A; Kimberly Magic Academy is fucked up and evil. This is not really hidden information to us in any way, a declaration that many of its students die, are permanently disabled, or are disappeared by their magical experiments opens the episode. The school’s headmaster, Esmerelda, reiterates that point directly upon greeting the student body, emphasizing that KMA prioritizes “freedom” and “results” and that all else, including the students’ own safety—and thus presumably any sense of morality—is decidedly a secondary concern. This could mean that the whole thing with the troll is just intended as another flag that these are Bad People. Of course, this would require Spellblades to not both-sides the issue, which is a problem that a truly astounding amount of bad anime run into. We’ll see where that goes.

Just as a side note; I’m not going to pretend to be scandalized by a powerful female character wearing what’s basically a bikini top, but it’s maybe not entirely the vibe you want to go for if you’re the headmistress of an evil magic school. On the other hand, in her position, and looking like she does, I’d wear the same thing. Truly, female character design is a land of contrasts.

Consider also Point B; the specific character of Nanao. It is easy enough to write Nanao off as an excuse to wedge a samurai into a setting that wouldn’t otherwise accommodate one, if you’re so inclined. But, Nanao is an oddly-presented character. In addition to all of her typical quirks, she is, as we see in a (sigh) bathing scene near the end of the episode, scarred almost from head to toe from real-deal war wounds. In fact, we learn that rather than entering Kimberly through any normal fashion, she was hand-picked by Michela’s father, who saved her from the midst of a raging battle. The visual we see could be dismissed as taking place in this setting’s equivalent of Asia—called, I am dead serious, Azia—but the framing almost seems to imply that she was isekai’d or something of the sort. The isekai device is much more interesting as something of consequence later in a series, rather than as the basic premise, so this would legitimately be a pretty neat twist. This is reinforced by her apparent ignorance of many customs in the setting, but again, she’s basically Schrodinger’s Samurai at this point. It’s hard to call one way or the other.

And lastly, C, there’s Oliver Horn himself. In the episode’s final act, he scouts out the school grounds at dawn, which seems to imply that he was aware of the general Fucked Up & Evil-ness of Kimberly Academy beforehand. Furthermore, the cloaked figure who cursed Katie is revealed to be an attendant sent by Oliver’s older brother Gwyn, also an academy student, who is shadowing him. This all implies some level of forethought on Oliver’s part, and that of his family. I will admit to being a sucker for “nice protagonist turns out to not be so nice after all” as a reveal, and it would do something to redeem Oliver’s blandness as a lead.

All of this needs context of course. For one thing, it’s not a guarantee that Spellblades will actually be made any better by having some kind of twist, even assuming it does have one. Trying to “Do Something” and actually doing it are, after all, different things. And, really, a show should ideally be interesting both before and after any kind of twist, additional perspective, recontextualization, etc. So far, Spellblades just hasn’t given us a ton to work with.

I’d argue, in fact, that me having to do this much legwork just to ask myself (and you all) if I should be invested in this is kind of a problem in the first place. A certain amount of grace is due to any new piece of art, for sure, but having to hem and haw this much is not a great sign. At least, you wouldn’t assume so, right? Conversely, maybe the fact that I’m willing to do so much indicates that I want it to be good. Of course, that’s true, I want every anime to be good, ideally, but I will admit to having a soft spot for a kind of low-rent fantasy fun. And there are definite upsides here; the actual magic system seems decently interesting, and the production is solid and will hopefully remain so. They’re just not huge upsides, which is maybe why I so badly want Spellblades to actually have good writing, too.

So who knows! If Spellblades appears on this blog again, you can assume it pulled off making the waiting game worth it. If not, you can safely assume I lost interest. What better test is there?


1: Honestly, that wouldn’t be the worst thing, but this is a column about seasonal anime, so it’s rather outside my scope here.

2: Yes that is actually her last name, I’m not having a laugh here.


Like what you’re reading? Consider following Magic Planet Anime to get notified when new articles go live. If you’d like to talk to other Magic Planet Anime readers, consider joining my Discord server! Also consider following me on Twitter, Tumblr, or Anilist, and supporting me on Ko-Fi or Patreon. If you want to read more of my work, consider heading over to the Directory to browse by category. If you have any questions about this or any article, feel free to leave a comment, or pop on over to my RetroSpring and ask me there. It’s up to you!

All views expressed on Magic Planet Anime are my own opinions and conclusions and should not be taken to reflect the opinions of any other persons, groups, or organizations. All text, excepting direct quotations, is owned by Magic Planet Anime. Do not duplicate without permission. All images are owned by their original copyright holders.

Seasonal First Impressions: THE GENE OF AI

Seasonal First Impressions is a column where I detail my thoughts, however brief or long, about a currently-airing anime’s first episode or so.


From a long, long tradition of manga and anime about humanoid androids, artificial intelligence, and more generally, machines and their minds, comes The Gene of AI. (Probably one of many, many AI / ai puns that have been made in Japanese media over the years, but who knows maybe it is just supposed to stand for “Artificial Intelligence” and nothing else, here.) Part medical procedural, part one man’s quest to clear his mother’s name, it’s a show walking on well-trod, but always fertile, ground.

In a word, this is not a show you watch for breezy fun. It’s a cerebral and fairly stark cross-examination of big ideas like the duality of mind and body, how technology influences our lives and how we interface with it, and so on. Again, this stuff has been done before and stretches back to the dawn of the medium. So the question by the time Gene of AI ends will be whether it has brought anything new to the table. We’ll hold off on that for now, as will we any question about how this particular genre intersects with the ongoing machine art boom. Instead, let’s look at the basics.

Dr. Hikaru Sudou [Taeko Ootsuka] is a medical professional who specializes in treating android patients. “Humanoids,” as the show calls them, are virtually indistinguishable from real people. They live, laugh, love, and so forth. (The only real tell that a person is a humanoid and not an actual flesh-and-blood human is in their eyes; humanoids have sideways-turned oblong pupils.) Sometimes, Dr. Sudou works under the table, under the name “Moggadeet”, to take care of patients with problems that they can’t go to a regular medical practice about. And it’s these underground visits that form the backbone of the show’s premise.

You see, in Gene of AI‘s world, copying a humanoid’s “neural net”—what has in fiction been variously called a brain pattern, neural scan, brain blueprint, etc.—is very illegal. “30 years minimum in prison” illegal. This is for two main reasons. Firstly, to “protect the sanctity of personality;” which is to say that if you restore a humanoid’s personality from a backup of their neural net, the question of whether or not they are in any meaningful sense “the same person” is an unanswered one. Secondly, and on a much more immediately practical note, the creation of backup neural nets allows for ersatz human trafficking, where one “person” can be duplicated many times over the course of many years. Doc Sudou himself gives the example of a figure called “The Crying Man,” a series of several humanoids copied from the same backup, who is repeatedly found involved with crime rings in the Middle East.1 I imagine both the practical and moral concerns of this whole practice are going to be a big theme going forward.

Sudou’s not helping the people who get involved with illegal neural net copying anyway out of the goodness of his heart, it must also be said. He’s using the hefty sums he collects to try to track down a pair of men who, we see in an opening scene set 25 years prior to the main story, tricked his mother—also a humanoid—into allowing them to make an illegal backup of her. Thus, we have our general premise and our main man, plus his motivation. And so, the stage is set for a fairly episodic(?) series where Sudou helps various patients in these complex, difficult situations, while also searching for those responsible for his mother’s imprisonment. It’s a pretty good setup, all told. Even if Sudou himself is kind of a dick, and notably rude toward humanoids. (Don’t make your protagonists machine-racist!)

His first case here is, one must imagine, pretty typical. An android husband and wife are in a crisis, because the wife has contracted a terminal virus. Initially, they’re both pretty willing to go forward with having her restored from an illegal backup that they’d had made a week prior.

But, it’s here that the series raises the existential questions for the first time, and the wife starts having second thoughts. And this is to say nothing of how her daughter, an adopted human child, takes all this, as Sudou is totally unwilling to back away from the tough questions; is the person who emerges from the backup the same person who is being restored from? It’s an open question with no easy answer, and the series, to its immense credit, feels non-judgmental even as both husband and wife go through several different stances on the subject over the course of the episode. (As an aside, said daughter is a fairly interesting character all around, and is a skilled hacker despite her young age. I wouldn’t be shocked if we see her again.)

In the end, they take the “obvious” compromise route. They let the virus advance to where the wife would die anyway, and then restore her mind from the illegal backup. But the show doesn’t cast even this in an entirely positive light. The memories of those weeks she spent on her temporary deathbed are never coming back, and there is a fundamental disconnect between her and her daughter over those missing memories, elegantly expressed in the form of narrative metaphor via a change in her scrambled egg recipe that does not carry over to her new mind.

There’s a lot to like about Gene of AI as it stands, and it passes the basic makes-you-think test of any show aiming to be cerebral. The preview for the next episode teases a story about a man competing against android runners. The whole “man vs. machine in a sports contest” premise is a tough one to pull off, and that might end up being the real test for Gene of AI. Still, I’m optimistic.


1: In most other anime, I’d find the rather random flagging of this as happening in the Middle East to be kind of suspect. Here, I think they’re actually planning to come back to it. A distinctly Middle Eastern town square is scene for a few seconds in a brief, cryptic closing scene.


Like what you’re reading? Consider following Magic Planet Anime to get notified when new articles go live. If you’d like to talk to other Magic Planet Anime readers, consider joining my Discord server! Also consider following me on Twitter, Tumblr, or Anilist, and supporting me on Ko-Fi or Patreon. If you want to read more of my work, consider heading over to the Directory to browse by category. If you have any questions about this or any article, feel free to leave a comment, or pop on over to my RetroSpring and ask me there. It’s up to you!

All views expressed on Magic Planet Anime are my own opinions and conclusions and should not be taken to reflect the opinions of any other persons, groups, or organizations. All text, excepting direct quotations, is owned by Magic Planet Anime. Do not duplicate without permission. All images are owned by their original copyright holders.