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.
Here is, without embellishment, the first five minutes of Reincarnated as a Sword, the latest entry in the novelty isekai canon; a guy (Shinichirou Miki) dies (of course), and is—you’ll never believe this—reincarnated in a stock fantasy world as a magic sword.
He fucks around in some JRPG-esque menus, and when a group of goblins tries to pull him out of the stone he’s stuck in, he attacks them because he “doesn’t want to be used by goblins,” and kills them all. This gives him experience points which he spends yet more time plugging into the aforementioned menus, and he comments that he feels nice, assuming it’s because he’s fulfilled “the purpose of a sword.”
I am hardly the first person to have noticed that the average isekai protagonist is a gleeful cartoon sociopath who seems weirdly eager to cut down every being in their way—whether or not they’re sapient—in the pursuit of naked personal power, usually as imagined by some borrowed grab-bag of video game tropes. But Reincarnated as a Sword is a pretty damn stark depiction of such a thing. Our Hero also spends a good chunk of this episode hacking a goblin tribe who live in a cave to pieces for no reason other than acquiring more magic skills. This in spite of the fact that, as demonstrated by their having a hierarchy at all (there’s a goblin king and a goblin wizard, naturally), these are clearly intelligent beings of some kind. Shouldn’t he hesitate at least a little bit, sword or no?
(If I scrunch my eyebrows together quite hard, I can pretend this is commentary of some sort. “Clearly,” I can imagine “this is the series lampooning the power fantasy nature not just of the isekai genre but of kill-all-the-monsters sorts of RPGs in general.” It’s not really that, of course, but it’s a fun thought experiment.)
Even if we really work to suspend our disbelief and acknowledge that this is just how this world works for whatever reason, say maybe the monsters respawn or something, it doesn’t exactly make for the most compelling television. The production has a decent amount of polish, and I must commend the staff on managing to squeeze a few visually dynamic action sequences in fights centered on a flying sword, because that can’t be easy. But that polish alone does not elevate Reincarnated as a Sword beyond the bare minimum of “watchable.”
Eventually, he gets stuck in a field that drains all of his magic, and can’t go anywhere. Thus we are treated to the truly absurd sight of a fucking sword lamenting its fate as it’s stuck in mana-sucking ground, and despairs that no one might ever wield it. It is a bizarre spectacle, and is a scene that, I must imagine wholly unintentionally, captures a certain zeitgeist. This, truly, is what the dregs of TV anime have come to. (Aren’t we all suddenly very glad that Chainsaw Man starts in two weeks? I know I am.)
We should, at least, give some cursory acknowledgement to Sword‘s other protagonist, who the titular sword eventually meets while stuck.
This is Fran (Ai Kakuma). She is a catgirl, and because the isekai genre has over the past decade developed a bizarre fixation on the awful practice, she is also a slave. Fran doesn’t get nearly as much screentime as the sword himself, so we only see little bits and pieces of her story over the series’ introductory 30 minutes. But what we do see is pretty awful; she’s routinely kicked around and beaten, is shackled with a magic collar that forces her to obey her masters’ commands, and in general is just treated like dirt. Now, the bare minimum of credit is due here; Reincarnated as a Sword does in fact seem to understand that slavery is bad. That is unfortunately more than can be said of some isekai, so it is worth acknowledging.
In fact, if you squint, you can imagine how a compelling story might develop here. Fran finds and acquires the sword somehow—and that part does, in fact, happen, she runs into it while being chased by a monstrous, two-headed bear—and becomes a swashbuckling liberator of her people, the Black Cat beastfolk, and all the other sorts of animal people enslaved here by humans. Now let’s be clear here, the main character becoming a sort of catgirl John Brown would still be incredibly strange, and it would probably be heavier subject matter than something like this is equipped to handle, but it would certainly be something. And it would, again, at least be an acknowledgement that the world this takes place in is fucked up and needs some fixing.
There isn’t anything in this first episode that prevents Reincarnated as a Sword from eventually becoming that kind of story, but it still seems unlikely, if only because the show seems far more interested in hurling menus, stat screens, and meaningless terminology at us instead. Fran gives her motive for linking up with the sword, which she calls Shishou (“Teacher” or “Master”), as a desire to be “the first Black Cat to evolve.” There is some indication of what that actually means, in-universe, but does it really matter? It’s just another narrative shortcut taken among an entire forest of them.
Ultimately what you have here is yet another isekai with a marginally interesting premise that completely squanders it by taking the dullest route possible through almost every single plotting decision it could make. The idea that it might eventually become something more interesting isn’t really enough, I imagine, to make most people want to tune in. Maybe, in six weeks, we’ll be here talking about how utterly incredible it is that Reincarnated as a Sword started out so anonymously and eventually got so good. But I very much doubt it. I intend to spend my viewing hours elsewhere this season, and I recommend you do the same.
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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.
No bombastic format this time, friends. Just a pair of very simple announcements.
I’ll be covering two anime weekly (or at least, most-weeks-ly) this coming season. One, which I picked myself, will be Chainsaw Man. The other, picked by you all, will be Spy x Family again. I will probably also occasionally write at least a little bit about the other shows that landed in the top 5; it was very close this season, with only a few votes gap between Spy x Family (the overall winner) and Raven of the Inner Palace (the fifth-most voted for show).
I’ll be seeing you then, friends.
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 and supporting me on Ko-Fi or Patreon. If you want to read more of my work, consider heading over to the Directoryto 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.
This review contains spoilers for the reviewed material. This is your only warning.
Magic Planet Anime posts will be extremely irregular for the foreseeable future. See this post for details.
For a while, it looked like things might improve.
I’ve covered RWBY: Ice Queendom on and off here on Magic Planet Anime since it premiered, and I was not shy about the fact that I did not really care for its opening arc. Then, unexpectedly, episode four happened and for a while, it seemed like things were picking up. I had hoped it would stay that way, but suffice it to say, this didn’t happen. I just haven’t felt very motivated to cover Ice Queendom here on MPA in a long while. And because of that, this is, in a sense, less of a proper review and more of a conclusion of my coverage of the series. It’s been a long and rough road, and I am mostly unhappy with how the show has turned out, but I do feel obligated to write something.
But to back up a bit, there isn’t anything inherently wrong with what Ice Queendom is trying to do. As a reboot / side story / whatever of the larger RWBY series, it succeeds in that it doesn’t actually require you to have seen any prior material to get an idea of what the series’ whole deal is. (A good thing, too, since, as I mention in the First Impressions writeup linked up there, I am a neophyte to the franchise.) As a Studio SHAFT anime made during what is at this point undeniably their twilight years, it succeeds in looking intermittently cool when it’s not busy being extremely janky. In that sense, it’s not terribly different from, say, Assault Lily Bouquet, another “girls with cool weapons” anime from SHAFT from just a few years back. And indeed, Ice Queendom‘s greatest strength is the visual oomph brought by that SHAFT pedigree. The Studio SHAFT of 2022 are not the Studio SHAFT of 2011, but they can still deliver some real knockouts when things come together. For the most part, even from this angle, Ice Queendom really does feel like there’s no one “at the wheel” so to speak. These flashes of excellence; mostly in the form of fight scenes or other visual setpieces, seem to be largely the work of individual animators or occasionally episode directors, rather than there being any sort of unifying hand throughout the production. Still, it’s something.
In practice, you’re more likely to notice the show’s flaws, which stem from its one major difference from the bulk of mainstream TV anime. Any number of other battle girl anime are, generally, either original IPs or they’re based on existing Japanese series. Ice Queendom is, of course, based on the extremely weeb-y, but very much American, original RWBY. This matters, because, I am told, the original series is the original sin for what ends up being this show’s most glaring, central writing problem. The root of all evil; The Over-wrought Furry Racism Allegory.
Very briefly, RWBY takes place in a fairly standard urban fantasy world. There are monsters, there are people who hunt the monsters with cool weapons, and an academy where they learn how to properly engage in monster hunting. Very well-trod stuff, but not necessarily bad. Here is the problem; in addition to the humans and the monsters (called Grimms), we also have kemonomimi called the Faunus. For reasons I can only guess at, Ice Queendom is very fixated on the Faunus, specifically as a vehicle for the aforementioned Over-wrought Furry Racism Allegory. This is a somewhat infamous stock plot, and it’s pretty much impossible to do well unless you’re the guy who wrote Maus. Personally, I’ve been over it since about when the first surly Skyrim guard threatened to turn my Khajit into a rug. And I cannot even imagine how utterly sick actual POC must be of the continued prevalence of this particular trope.
Ice Queendom‘s take, unfortunately, is particularly bad. A majority of the show takes place not in the series’ own real world, but inside the mind of one of its main characters, the snooty heiress Weiss Schnee (Youko Hikasa), who, along with her friends Ruby (the cheerful red one, Saori Hayami), Yang (the big sister-ish yellow one, Ami Koshimizu), and Blake (the cool and aloof Faunus, Yuu Shimamura), is one of the four members of the titular Team RWBY. Early in the series, she’s possessed by something called a Nightmare Grimm which locks her in a dream world inside of her own head. With the help of extremely cool original-to-Ice Queendom character Shion Zaiden (Hiroki Nanami), the remaining Team RWBY girls dive into this nightmare prison and attempt to rescue Weiss. This takes up the remainder of the show, and along the way they fight a fairly wide variety of dream baddies and, at least ostensibly, help Weiss grapple with the trauma that comes from being raised by a bunch of rich assholes who probably don’t care very much about her.
You may ask, what does all of this have to do with kemonomimi? Well, you see, one of the things that the show repeatedly hammers home over the course of its run is that Weiss does not like or trust Blake. Specifically, she doesn’t like or trust Blake because she’s a Faunus. Because, you see, some Faunus are part of a, ahem, “terrorist organization” called the White Fang, which attacks trains and such owned by Weiss’ family’s company. Blake actually was part of the White Fang at one point, having left some time ago for only vaguely specified reasons. Thus begins Ice Queendom‘s utter fixation on both this dumb-as-bricks plot and, on top of that, trying to falsely equate Weiss and Blake’s struggles.
Let us be very clear here, based on the information that Ice Queendom itself gives us, Weiss is a troubled but still very privileged heiress from a wealthy background. Blake is from a, by all appearances, widely discriminated-against ethnic minority, enough so that she feels the need to wear a ribbon to hide her wolf ears, and may have done some arguably-bad things in the past. I am not embellishing here; those are the facts laid out by the series itself. Somehow, Ice Queendom insists that both of these characters are equally sympathetic, utterly emptying the pantry of basic dream symbolism in service to the idea that somehow, Weiss Schnee, deeply unlikable rich girl who spends much of the series as her subconscious “nightmare self” trotting around in a militaristic overcoat, and Blake Belladonna, a girl who has by all accounts had a very rough life, are equally at fault for the rift that emerges between them.
If I ended up inside someone’s mind, and I found out that they thought things like this, I would probably have a hard time trusting them, too. Just saying.
Make no mistake; what actually happens, repeatedly, throughout Ice Queendom, is that Blake will say something that the show frames as her being hurt, but which is actually, obviously, completely correct. Weiss will then say something racist. We are supposed to believe that both of these people are doing something wrong here, despite the fact that it its trumpetingly obvious that only one is.
I’ve said this before, but I feel like a total idiot for complaining about this kind of thing. Not because I’m wrong—I know I’m not—but because it just seems obvious. I have said a fair few positive things about Ice Queendom in my earlier columns on the show, and I stand by most of those. I do genuinely think it’s pretty visually interesting, and, even if the dream symbolism leans toward the obvious, it is the closest we ever get to actually seeing a full inner picture of Weiss that doesn’t just make her seem like an entitled snot. But none of that really fixes the fact that overall Ice Queendom fails at some very basic things.
The whole Blake / Weiss feud plotline would, itself, be just the source of a complaint—a major one, but not necessarily one that would wreck the whole series—were Ice Queendom not so obsessed with circling back to it. The show’s entire final stretch, from episode 8 to episode 12, is almost entirely about it. Other narrative threads like Ruby’s personal development as a leader of her team are reduced to perfunctory side stories; this is clearly what Ice Queendomwants to be about, and for the life of me I cannot figure out why, because it is both its worst and its least interesting plot by an order of magnitude, and it rots the show at the root right up until the very end.
Naturally, the series ends with wishy-washy handwaving bullshit about how the power of friendship has helped Team RWBY overcome their differences. Except, of course, that a huge chunk of the very last episode—what is supposed to be the triumphant postscript, mind you—is spent by people still casting aspersions on Blake for her being a Faunus. One of those people is still Weiss, who really does not seem to have grown as a person at all over the course of the story. Another one is the school’s headmaster, who both assures her that the academy is totally egalitarian and then also grills her about her possible connections to the White Fang within the space of a single conversation. It is a truly breathtaking display of double standard, and if it were at all intentional it’d be almost brilliant, but I’m not convinced it is. Instead, it’s just the last of a very long series of nails in Ice Queendom‘s coffin. And then the proverbial spit on the grave is Weiss using the threat of calling the police as a bit of bargaining leverage against a different Faunus character not ten minutes later.
There is one further bright spot, and it also comes in at the show’s end. And I do mean the very end; as in, the last scene of the whole series. Inexplicably, we end on a scene of Ice Queendom‘s cast getting into a massive foodfight. It’s lavishly animated and a pretty slick little tune pumps in the background as it happens. It’s also completely baffling. I’m told it’s an homage to the opening of the second season of the original RWBY.
On its own, this is great. In a meta sort of way, it even loops back around to what RWBY as a series was originally about; flashy fight scenes, with any greater narrative context a secondary concern at most. (Even I know about the famous color trailers. I’m not totally out of the loop.) But taken in the greater context of Ice Queendom on the whole, it really raises the question; why could they have not just done this the entire time? There is no real reason that all of the writing problems that so badly hamstring the show should be present, and I really doubt anyone would’ve blamed the scriptwriters for sidelining or even outright ignoring some of the original’s more questionable plot lines. No one likes RWBY for its writing. Again, even I know that much.
At the end of the day, what we have with Ice Queendom is a deeply frustrating piece of media. Intermittently good, occasionally brilliant, but willing and ready to repeat the mistakes of not just its source material but an entire generation of pop media, usually in the most basic fashion imaginable. Often enough that doing so completely ruins it. This is a case where a show’s positive aspects don’t balance out the negative ones so much as they make them seem even worse by comparison.
If we are to remember Ice Queendom in any kind of positive light, it should be for those rare few moments of visual brilliance. But, of course, when it’s possible to experience all of a show’s highlights just by scrolling through sakugabooru, there’s already been a greater failure of imagination.
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 and supporting me on Ko-Fi or Patreon. If you want to read more of my work, consider heading over to the Directoryto 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 think y’all know the drill by now, but just in case you don’t, here’s the very short version. Every season (mostly), I cover one or two anime week-by-week that I think people will be interested in seeing me write about. Each season, I like to leave the choice of what at least one of those shows will be to you, my dear audience. You can vote on whatever shows (with a few exceptions left off the list) you like, here, and vote for as many as you want.
I’ve been having a time of it lately, so the site has been rather quiet for a while. I would like to get things back on track at least a little bit.
I don’t want to promise anything, hence the somewhat low-effort nature of this particular post (I didn’t even do one of my token funny photoshops this season. For shame), but I want to at least make an honest effort.
Your opinions, as always, are very much appreciated.
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 and supporting me on Ko-Fi or Patreon. If you want to read more of my work, consider heading over to the Directoryto 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.
This review contains spoilers for the reviewed material. This is your only warning.
This review was commissioned. That means I was paid to watch and review the series in question and give my honest thoughts on it. You can learn about my commission policies and how to buy commissions of your own here. This review was commissioned by Rakhshi. Thank you for your support.
Magic Planet Anime posts will be extremely irregular for the foreseeable future. See this post for details.
Maybe I just don’t quite get it.
.hack//Roots, the second entry of the storied .hack franchise, is a kind of anime that doesn’t really get made anymore, on several fronts. It’s an adaption of (and sort of a prequel to) the video game .hack//G.U. It’s also a fairly low-key and unflashy speculative fiction series. There used to be a lot of these; stuffed to the brim with a lot of place-names, people-names, and thing-names, where the central plot is the main fixture but is, at least in theory, supported by a whole lot of worldbuilding and Lore™. The slow pace is a key part of it too, enough so that my pet neologism “Proper Noun Machine Gun” doesn’t quite feel appropriate. (Proper Noun Composite Bow, maybe?) Usually, the plot is about finding a McGuffin of some kind. Or several McGuffins. Often, there are competing factions who want the McGuffin(s). At a glance, you’d usually guess they were mid-budget productions. You were usually correct. All of this is true in Roots, to at least some extent, and I have to admit that it made getting invested in the series hard for me. That in mind, I did not really care for it at all, we’ll circle back around to why.
In the past decade, anime like this have had their niche crowded out by light novel adaptions and the like, which have a more uptempo pace and are generally a lot campier. So, I must admit that for the second .hack franchise entry in a row, I went into Roots with the mentality of a pop cultural archeologist. .hack//SIGN was so of-its-era that the very net culture it was loosely based on is basically a foreign country nowadays. Roots is much the same, despite being a bit more recent (it hails from 2006) as signposted by its tangle of now-ancient MMO slang, some of which was never common in the anglosphere to begin with.
But enough about that, what’s it actually about?
Hint: not this.
For the first half of its show, there’s a straightforward answer to that question. Our main character is Haseo (Takahiro Sakurai), a surly noob who finds himself getting ganked on his very first day playing hit MMO The World. As the series’ plot revs up, he gets caught between the machinations of two guilds; the Twilight Brigade, led by the mysterious Ovan (Hiroki Touchi) searching for the Key of the Twilight—you may remember it from SIGN—and the enigmatic TaN Guild, who oppose the former for initially nebulous reasons. Haseo joins the Brigade at about the show’s quarter mark, and consequently they form the bulk of our remaining main cast. The main other members of note are Shino (Kaori Nazuka), who Haseo quickly forms a close bond with, and Tabby (Megumi Toyoguchi), who is another new player in search of friends in the digital fields and cities of The World.
Our McGuffins this time around are glowing crystals called Virus Cores, things of obscure provenance found in glitched-out locations within The World called Lost Grounds. The show opens before these things start to actually turn up, but they’re the main plot-drivers for the earlier parts of the series.
But detailing the plot from this point on becomes, or at least I feel it becomes, rote. Eventually the Brigade dissolves and things crumble into a syrupy morass, and the show never really recovers.
Before we discuss why, though, let’s consider the overall positives.
What I will give the series is that its soundtrack and background visuals are consistently excellent. As a production, and keeping in mind its origins, it is generally just a solid affair all-around. (There are some rough spots toward the end, but they’re relatively few in number.) The fight choreography is engaging on the occasion that fights actually pop up. In general, the show looks and sounds good. Unfortunately, that is about the sum of my unambiguously positive thoughts on .hack//ROOTS.
After the opening third or so of the series, these strengths clash with an increasingly sluggish central plot, and the series slows to a crawl. There is a lot of utterly leaden exposition—some of it handed out by decent characters, in spite of that, like the wise cat-man sage Phyllo (Junpei Takiguchi)—that is probably interesting if you have much more prior investment in this franchise than I do, but without that existing experience it mostly just comes across as boring.
There are, though, writing-side positives, too. Haseo’s character arc is terrible, as we’ll get to, but some of the other character writing is fairly strong.
For instance, a bit under halfway through, there’s an excellent bit of character work where Shino professes that she likes being in the Brigade because she feels that she can truly be herself there. There is something to this idea of Ovan (or really, Shino herself, given that she does just as much to make the Twilight Brigade what it is, while it exists) as a great creator-of-spaces. Areas where people can just be without having to worry about the pressures of the outside world. In the modern, mundane internet, there are plenty of such spaces, although not as many as there used to be, many of them on services like Discord. And there is also something to Roots’ depiction of one of these spaces falling apart; about halfway through the series, most especially in episodes 12 and 13, where the Twilight Brigade all quit after Ovan’s sudden disappearance, and Shino dies outright at the hands of the mysterious digital executioner Tri-Edge (Sayaka Aida). The collapse of a place like this is genuinely a sad thing and trying to convey that through the story is one of .hack//Roots‘ better ideas. Unfortunately, having good ideas and telling good stories are different things, and just because Roots can do the former does not imply it can necessarily do the latter.
From here, the plot again greatly slows down, and most of the remainder of the show is spent on Haseo’s deeply tedious quest for vengeance against Tri-Edge. On paper, you can see how this would work. Sacrificing almost every positive attribute you have in order to “get stronger” so you can avenge the death of a loved one is a tried-and-true narrative, one that’s been done many times in anime, and sometimes to great effect. But two things sink Roots’ attempt to tap into this bit of the collective human psyche. For one, the very fact that the series takes place within an MMO makes the whole thing feel slightly ridiculous, even with Shino being literally dead. For two, and much more importantly, Haseo is just not an interesting character. He begins the series as a whiny dweeb, and the series’ attempts to sell him as a genuine menace when he decides to go full raging avenger just don’t work.
Shino is gone, Haseo has given up a lot, so all of this, again, should work, but none of this changes the fact that what he’s mostly doing is mopily level grinding in an MMO. It’s silly, which would itself be excusable if there was any sense of drama to any of this, but there isn’t. Instead, Haseo mostly looks like a scrawny teenager cosplaying Cu Chulainn Alter for the back half of the show, something that really does not help its stabs at gravitas land.
Elsewhere, things are better. More grounded characters like Tabby, whose struggles still consist mostly of her wanting friends and not knowing how to deal with her first friend group breaking up, is the one who’s best and easiest to relate to, among the main cast. She carries that torch through the whole show, and she might be my favorite character over all. At show’s end, she quits The World, and plans to become a nurse, so she can help people in the real world.
Other minor characters like Pi (Sanae Kobayashi), who is effectively a combination minion of the obligate mysterious conspiracy / put-upon secretary, and Saburou (Shizuka Itou), a hacker with a talent for longwinded, clunky metaphors, brighten things up when they’re onscreen. But we here again return to the central problem of these characters just not being on-screen all that often.
And even when they are, they’re usually talking about Haseo. I’m reminded of that Simpsons episode about Poochie the Dog, except in this case Poochie is the show’s main character. We’re supposed to buy him as an avenging badass, but on a simple vibe level, it just doesn’t work.
This disconnect renders most of the show’s entire second cour tedious, but there are bright spots even here.
Episode 19, for example, treats the annoying but relatively mundane practice of Real Money Trading (RMT’ing, as the show frequently abbreviates it) with all the deadly seriousness of an episode of The Wire. Here, former TaN member Tawaraya reappears under a new account, using the name Tohta (Kenta Miyake), and busts up a ring of RMT’ers exploiting the playerbase for money. It’s a surprisingly interesting plot, with a fair amount of intrigue and actual mystery that is sorely lacking from much of the preceding material. It’s the one time the show’s self-seriousness actually works in its favor. Unfortunately, it doesn’t last, as the series returns to its ongoing main plot in the following episode and almost immediately loses that edge.
Finally, in the last few episodes, we learn that Phyllo has passed away, and has spent the last eight months of his life with a terminal cancer diagnosis, logging in to The World every day, just to chat up players. It’s a sincere, resonant ode to the quiet life, and the idea that some people find a deep joy in just communicating with others at all. It is maybe the single most affecting moment in the entire series….and then the entire rest of the last episode is just about Haseo again. Even when .hack//Roots has a good idea—and it has a fair few of them!—it can’t stay focused for long enough.
The problem with these sorts of anime is that they live and die by their central plot, which is usually driven by some kind of mystery. Here, at least in Roots‘ second half, the mystery is what precisely happened to Shino, why Tri-Edge attacked her in the first place, and where he is now. But there’s no compelling sense of discovery to it, everything just feels far too slow for something like this, and many of the plot points raised here do not actually get resolved by show’s end. (For actual conclusions you’d have to play G.U. itself, or perhaps watch one of its film adaptions.) So, the show drags and drags, all buildup and no payoff. Despite having only 26 episodes, it is mostly a series of intermittent highlights surrounded by doldrum. The bright spots make the experience more tolerable, but they don’t make it good. The disparate strengths never form a whole.
I don’t want to make it seem like I hate.hack//Roots. I certainly don’t. But I do find it frustrating, there are few things moreso than an anime with decent ideas that it just can’t figure out how to fit them together. Roots was actually fairly popular, once upon a time, but I think there’s a reason that the .hack series on the whole has largely faded from view. Its sprawling, inaccessible nature certainly has never helped, but if this is more indicative of the average tone and tempo of the franchise than Sign was, I can understand why people are not super interested anymore. Certainly, my personal journey with .hack ends here; I’m logging out.
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 and supporting me on Ko-Fi or Patreon. If you want to read more of my work, consider heading over to the Directoryto 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 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.
Magic Planet Anime posts will be extremely irregular for the foreseeable future. See this post for details.
Since we last spoke about Lycoris Recoil, the series has undergone a radical shift in scale and focus. We saw the opening moves of this maneuver back in episode 7, but by now the show has mostly disregarded any direct “nitty gritty” political engagement. There are two things LycoReco cares about right now: mapping out the long arc of Chisato’s short life, and broad, philosophical questions of destiny and free will. Even though the show’s actual setting and characters have not changed much, we’re still a very long way from the montage of high schoolers capping people from the premiere.
We’ve known for a while that Chisato has an artificial heart, some future-tech thing that doesn’t actually beat, and which is essentially irreplaceable. So it wasn’t that surprising when, a few weeks ago, a minor villain posing as a nurse injected our protagonist with some knock-out serum or another and performed some impromptu surgery. The result was hardware lockout; no one can tinker with Chisato’s heart anymore, and that includes recharging it.
She has two months left to live.
Chisato’s life has the ring of true tragedy. Raised as a child soldier but addled with an incurable heart disease, she was singled out by the mysterious Shinji Yoshimatsu as a “genius” of killing, the primary skill of all Lycorii, and given her artificial heart with the understanding that she would use this gift to become an even deadlier assassin. Even with this in mind, we learn, it was doubtful she’d live past 18. Of course, for the purposes of being a deadly teenage supercop, that’s perfectly fine; Lycorii are discharged at 18 anyway.
The entire universe of Lycoris Recoil is aligned against Chisato; the “nurse” who’s pulled the plug on her heart is one of Yoshimatsu’s people, an obvious attempt to gain leverage on her to get her to return to her alleged true calling as an assassin, her former superior at the DA is not much better, giving her back a camera she’d confiscated some time ago to try to nudge her back into DA service. And of course, there’s her heart problems themselves, a natural ailment that the artificial heart has provided only a temporary reprieve from.
Chisato rarely shows any direct concern over any of this, and frankly she’s remarkably unflappable in the face of her imminent demise, but that’s precisely part of what makes her character arc so effective. Fearing death, at least a little bit, is normal. Staring unblinking into its face as you know it’s creeping ever closer, that’s another thing entirely. The ability to do that only comes from having spent the better part of your life in a seriously bad place. Even with all she very obviously cares for—Takina, the cafe’, Mika, etc.—she seems to have accepted this as inevitable from day one. It’s heartbreaking.
Yet, when, in episode 10 (the most recent), she finds out who exactly is responsible for all of that hardship, she holds no ill will toward him at all. She’s not really even mad at Mika for keeping this secret from her this entire time! Instead, she reiterates that she sees the two of them as her fathers, and when, in the episode’s final minutes, we learn that Shinji’s being held hostage by Majima and Robota, she doesn’t hesitate to spend a day of her rapidly-shrinking lifespan trying to rescue him. (The actual hostage rescue itself being territory for next week, we must assume.)
Chisato is, at the end of the day, an incredibly strong character. Not just strong in the usual anime sense, and not just strong as in “well-written,” but possessing of a vast moral strength, too. It’s hard to know whether to take her insistence that she hear all of the terrible things Shinji’s said about her in person as an incredible capacity for forgiveness, a denial that she’s been lied to at all, or both. But all signs point to her being very much aware of her own mortality, her ability to do all of this in spite of that awareness is both admirable and more than a little terrifying. Hers is a blitheness that hides a deep pain, something we really don’t get to actually see for ourselves directly.
While this is very much Chisato’s show, it’d be a mistake to not mention that the rest of Lycoris Recoil‘s cast has continued to be great, too. Mika’s deep and very much justified regret over his role in concealing the truth from Chisato rounds out his character in an excellent way.
Takina, in the meantime, has had to deal with the impending loss of her best friend (or “best friend.” I leave that distinction up to you, shippers), perhaps the first person she’s ever truly connected to, while also, in a twist of dramatic irony, being given exactly what she initially wanted; a trip back to the DA. She and Chisato are apart for episode 10, which while sad, does give her a few moments to truly shine on her own, and her single-minded focus on trying to somehow help Chisato is very grounded and relatable, despite the fantastical stakes. (This could also be said of Mika, actually. I am sure there is at least one father watching this show who absolutely cried his eyes out this past episode.)
The only real weak spot is Majima, who’s taken the main villain role in this last arc of the show. As a cartoonish caricature of an anarchist in a world built on some already-iffy foundational principles, he is probably the only genuine weak link in Lycoris Recoil‘s character roster and embodies most of the show’s remaining shortcomings. Still, he’s at least entertaining at this point, with his utterly ludicrous plot of “hide a thousand guns all over Tokyo and let carnage ensue naturally from there” being, all at once, a decent piece of commentary, comically stupid on its face, and weirdly lazy, as far as big endgame villain schemes go. But at this point, that’s expected of LycoReco, a show that is built on contradictions top to bottom.
The plot itself has taken an all-action movie tropes twist—again—as we ride into the final few weeks. A dying Chisato prepares to rescue Shinji while Takina and the other DA Lycorii try to deal with Majima running circles around them. Much is up in the air, and it’s impossible to exactly call where it all will land.
For any flaws it could be said to have, there is absolutely no denying that, as Lycoris Recoil nears its end, it remains an absolutely fascinating show, forever pulling in all directions and only recently settling into a groove that seems to truly suit it. (No one would call the show’s early episodes bad, I don’t think, but things have definitely improved.) The last bullets are in the chamber; gun cocked, but not fired.
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 and supporting me on Ko-Fi or Patreon. If you want to read more of my work, consider heading over to the Directoryto 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 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.
Magic Planet Anime posts will be extremely irregular for the foreseeable future. See this post for details.
Call of The Night is a show about living outside of social norms. It has been basically since day 1. Modern vampire stories lend themselves particularly well to this sort of thing, and that might be why the glove fits Call of The Night so well. But whatever the reason, it’s difficult to read the show’s tale of complex nocturnal relationships as being about anything else.
For Ko, vampirism has always represented an ideal exit strategy from the expectations of diurnal society. Vampires do not have to go to school, and since they (presumably, here as in most fiction) live very long lives, there is no need to truly manage one’s time wisely. After all, there can’t be any future problems looming over your head if “the future” never really comes.
In its past few episodes, Call of The Night has raised the obvious counterpoint to this idea; what about the vampires’ own social norms?
Recent episodes have established that as Ko is to humanity, Nazuna is to vampiredom. Nazuna is, in her own way, a social outcast as well. She’s apparently never turned another person, she’s unwilling to seduce people in order to do that, and in general she simply doesn’t seem to get along with the other vampires we’re introduced to very well. In fact, one could easily argue that Nazuna is more of an outcast than Ko is; at least Ko’s classmates seem to like him. The other vampires only just tolerate Nazuna, and that’s after learning about her and Ko’s unique situation. Before that point, one of those vampires, Kikyo Seri (Haruka Tomatsu), actually tries to kill her—and Ko, for knowing too much about vampires—marking the first genuine threat in the entire story.
Things work themselves out, sort of, but we also learn that Ko only has a year to become a vampire before being turned becomes impossible. “Failing to qualify,” as one of the other vampires puts it. What was once a choice has now been turned into a requirement, and worse, one with a time limit. The other vampires do not explicitly tell Ko that they’ll kill him if he can’t manage to turn in that time, but all evidence points to this, since then he’d be a human who knows too much about them with no way of turning into one himself. Once again, Ko finds himself up against a societal wall; expectations imposed, with consequences if they’re not met. (Rather severe ones, I must say.)
This, understandably, makes Ko anxious. Since now he feels like he needs to fall in love with Nazuna rather than just wanting to. He even tries taking her on a date, at Seri’s suggestion, but it pretty quickly falls to pieces.
Ladies, has your man ever left you feeling like this?
Things are only salvaged when Nazuna lifts him into the night once again; trying to fit anyone else’s ideas of what their relationship should be inevitably fails. It’s only on their own terms do Nazuna and Ko truly work together, not just as a couple but even just as friends.
All this said then, the question asks itself; is becoming a vampire really all it’s cracked up to be? Nazuna certainly doesn’t think so, and there is some implication that Seri may not, either. But there’s also a lingering hint that Ko may not have to face this looming problem alone.
In the most recent episode, 8, we’re also introduced to Mahiru (Kenshou Ono). Mahiru is a jovial, all-around friendly sort of guy. Ko really seems to like him, arguably to the point of a crush, and he makes a good first impression.
(I think every middle and high school has at least one guy like this. In my high school it was a stoner dude who was extremely tall. His name was Mitch, and I hope he’s doing well nowadays.) We find out, though, that Mahiru has also been seeing someone after dark, with the broad implication that he, too, may be in love with a vampire.
It seems like that for all Ko has used nighttime as an escape, his problems are not content to stay out of the shadows. As always, I am intrigued to see where the series goes from here, as it enters its final stretch.
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 and supporting me on Ko-Fi or Patreon. If you want to read more of my work, consider heading over to the Directoryto 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 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.
Here’s two things I rarely talk about on this site; western animation and media preservation. But they’ve been thrust to the forefront of the media conversation following HBO Max‘s utterly morally bankrupt decision to simply delete and delist a sizable swathe of programs, thirty-six as of right now, including a number of well-liked Cartoon Network series such as Infinity Train, OK KO! -Let’s Be Heroes-, Uncle Grandpa—which was briefly the last man standing of the whole purge—and once-and-future coverage recipient Mao Mao, Heroes of Pure Heart.
Obviously, for all involved, this sucks. Both for the fans, who no longer have a legal way to watch the shows in question, and for the creators, who are quite deliberately being shafted by this move, as HBO Max is removing the shows in question to save on residual fees.
But this is a blog about anime and manga, so you might wonder what, exactly, any of this has to do with anything I cover here. The simple fact of the matter is – everything.
Easy and legal access to subtitled (or dubbed) anime is a fairly recent thing, dating back to not much more then ten years ago. Before that, what anime, if any, were legally available in the English-speaking world was a total tossup. Dubs and subs were certainly made, many of them were quite widely-watched, too, but outside of mainstream action fare things got dicey fast. For every anime that got a solid English dub and ran on Toonami, there were many more that were relegated to DVD releases that tended to quickly go out of print once the initial runs were sold out.
As such, the fate of any anime that was not one of the very few that became a long-running staple of American television (a title held by Dragonball Z, Naruto, Bleach, and that’s kind of it), was, at least to the English-speaking world, generally up in the air. Plenty of anime have fallen into legal limbo in this manner, many of them not even particularly obscure. Obviously, this is less of a problem in recent years, with streaming services snatching up the distribution rights to all manner of anime, new and old, at least one, RetroCrush, even specializes in older anime that other services might not be inclined to pick up. So, at present, the outlook is pretty sunny, right?
But the question, of course, is for how long.
Make no mistake. We live in a largely corporate-run world, and companies do not do things For You, The Fans. They do them to make money. Presently, we are in the midst of a second anime-in-the-Anglosphere boom. There is some evidence that this one is less ephemeral than the rush of 4Kids localizations and Toonami pickups of the 90s, but there is also plenty that it really isn’t. It’s a mistake to assume that just because it has lasted longer so far that it will not eventually fizzle. Consumer trends come and go, and even more than that, besuited executives often make decisions based on charts and graphs that come across to those of us on the ground as, at best, cryptic. This is to say nothing of the fact that the anime industry itself is in a state of perpetual crisis, as the production bubble continues to balloon with no end in sight, something is going to give somewhere eventually. It is mostly a matter of time.
It is not doomsaying then, to ask the question. If, eventually, this bubble pops, and corporations on this side of the Pacific suddenly decide that investing in anime is not profitable for them anymore, what are we to do then?
Well, perhaps it is time to reconsider the role of the media pirate.
To some of you, the very notion will seem ludicrous. It’s not like filesharing has ever gone away, but with the rise of streaming a decent amount of people in the world have convinced themselves that not only is the practice illegal, but that it’s also immoral. I strongly disagree with such a notion to begin with, but in cases like these, where legal access to the media in question is being actively prevented, it goes from a debatably excusable practice to one that is functionally a necessity. We here enter the paradigm of the media pirate as media archivist.
For anime fans, this should be more obvious than to most. Plenty of anime, even with the existence of RetroCrush et. al., have remained in legal limbo in the Anglosphere for years. For instance, if one wanted to watch Cardcaptor Sakura-by-way-of-ReBoot curio Corrector Yui, you were pretty much totally out of luck until very recently. Even then, somewhat sketchy Amazon listings for DVD volumes are not exactly the most accessible method of watching anything. The more obscure a show gets, the more dire the prospects are. Another magical girl anime from around the same time, for example, Cosmic Baton Girl Princess Comet, is simply not available anywhere, barring dubious secondhand BD volume pickups.
I could easily make a whole series of columns out of just listing anime that are not easily accessible, legally, anywhere in the Anglosphere, and sometimes not even in their home country. At this point, filesharing as an ethical imperative becomes almost obvious a conclusion.
Because if we continue to beat the drum of legal availability as king, a situation not unlike what’s just transpired on HBO Max is less of a possibility and more of an eventuality. That’s something we would all do well to remember.
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 and supporting me on Ko-Fi or Patreon. If you want to read more of my work, consider heading over to the Directoryto 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.
Hi folks, I always do dread writing things like this. I guess out of some misplaced fear people will be upset with me?
In any case, I’ll cut straight to the point. For the next while, possibly the next long while, posts here on Magic Planet Anime will be a lot less regular. This means I’m probably not going to be hitting every column every week, and there may be fairly long gaps between posts. I sometimes might write fairly random things just for fun if I have the energy, but I’m not going to be capable of posting every column more or less on-time every day of the week like I have mostly (admittedly, not entirely) been doing for this past year.
If all you care about is the “what” and not the “why”, you can stop reading now, but I do feel like I should provide at least some explanation as to why this is happening for those who care or are curious. Hopefully without getting into TMI territory.
The short version is that I’ve been dealing with a fairly serious medical problem since back in April. I won’t go into the icky details, but it’s seriously impacted my ability to do things for myself physically as well as prevented me from walking around like I like to do, so my mental health has suffered pretty severely as well. I’ve been trying to see somebody for this for a long time, but progress has been intermittent and slow, for a whole host of reasons not worth getting into.
I think unfortunately I have been kind of using this blog’s regular schedule as a substitute for a routine, rather than simply building it on top of an existing, healthy routine I already had. This was fine last year and toward the start of this year when I didn’t have any big issues hanging over my head, but now that I do, things have gotten more complicated, and I can’t really be writing about cartoons instead of taking care of important stuff.
Plus; I do think the quality of my writing has suffered a little bit as a result of trying to prioritize consistency. I worry that in focusing on trying to convince myself that this is a “real job”—something that, frankly, is absurd. If anyone doesn’t think I deserve to be paid for what I do here, then doing it more consistently isn’t going to convince them otherwise—I’ve lost a little bit of the passion. Not much mind you, I still routinely put up columns I’m quite proud of. (See herefrom just yesterday, for example.) And plenty more that are quite fun to write (I really must stress that I’ve loved doing One Piece Every Day, even if it is going to be as impacted as anything else). My hope is that by dialing back the scale of my operations, I’ll make fewer, but better columns. And then, when I’ve got all my health issues sorted, I will be able to return in full force better than ever.
As for the immediate future, I have a couple One Piece Every Day columns that will go up over the next three or so days. After that, it’s all a big question mark, and I’m really not trying to push myself, so I don’t want to make any promises. There definitely won’t be much going on here next week, since I’ll be out of town. (I’m being taken on vacation by some close friends. Thankfully, they are paying.)
In any case, I highly recommend following me on Twitter if you want to be kept in the loop. Plus, I sometimes write (much more briefly) about anime there as well. Lastly, if this blog has ever brought you any joy or made you think about something in a new way, please do consider donating, every cent helps and I don’t have any other sources of income.
I think that’s about the shape of it, friends. I’ll be seeing you when I see you.
Oh, and yes, One Piece Every Day will be keeping its name. It would be excellent if I could keep up the “once per day” schedule, but I’ve already missed one just yesterday simply by forgetting to put it up, so uh…no promises. ^ ^;
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.
“Idols don’t ‘do the right thing.’ They do what they want.”
I’m breaking a personal rule with this one. Generally speaking, I don’t really like to compare currently-airing anime. Especially not if the main reason they’re being compared is that they share a genre. In my view, people generally vastly overstate the importance of genre and tend to use what should be a guideline as a box to lump dissimilar things together. Or worse, to rag on something for not fitting a particular, narrow ideal of what something in a given genre “should” be. Comparing seasonal anime on the basis of their genre alone is usually pretty basic and uninteresting.
Yet, something about the idol genre specifically reignites an old fire of partisan fandom within me. I latch on to favorites pretty hard, and even I’m sometimes at a loss as to succinctly explain why, both in terms of individual characters and—as this column will go into—entire shows themselves.
So today, I’m letting myself do something I normally wouldn’t; I am comparing two things that I fully acknowledge have little business being compared. Those things being the second season of Love Live! Superstar, about the idol group Liella, and new girl on the block SHINEPOST, about the idol group TiNgS.
But come on! How can I not? We have here two idol anime airing in the same season, appealing to the same groups of people, but with wildly different approaches. One operating from within the established Love Live franchise, and the other, a punchy outsider that evokes 2011’s seminal The Idolmaster. (Bonus points; Superstar is from the long-established Sunrise, and SHINEPOST comes to us from the still relatively young Studio KAI, perhaps best known at this point for the second season of Pretty Derby and last year’s Super Cub. They’re also working on the excellent Fuuto PI this season as well.) One is pure fluff; sunny, goofy, and, in its best moments, purehearted and warm. The other is a down-to-earth look at idols as players in the idol industry, focusing on ground-level character dynamics and getting into the heads of its significantly smaller cast.
So here we go; two idol anime, two very different takes on what that phrase even means in 2022. We will look at them one at a time, and then consider how we might use the knowledge of what each is doing to look ahead into the future.
We’ll start with SHINEPOST, the one I prefer by a fair bit. TiNgS were introduced to the world with their trailer PV toward the end of last year, and it (and the accompanying song, the scintillating banger “Be Your Light!!”), immediately hooked me.
SHINEPOST is a scrappy little anime, one that seemingly rather few people in the Anglosphere are watching. But for my money, it outstrips Superstar in a few respects; it’s more ambitious, and the particular suite of emotions on display here resonates with me more. I don’t think SHINEPOST is a “better” show in any absolute sense—I rarely think of anime in that way, and Superstar has its merits too, as we’ll get to—but it’s easily the one that’s captured more of my heart.
Part of that, I think, comes down to the fact that SHINEPOST has what is for me more relatable character writing. Particularly in the form of Kyouka Tamaki (Moeko Kanisawa, lead for the real-life idol group ≠ME). Kyouka does fall within a firmly established character archetype; she’s straightlaced, serious, a good student, and considers herself very ordinary. She turns to idol work out of a desperate desire to be special, to mean something to somebody as more than just another person. The devil’s in the details here; Kyouka’s desperation to be noticed also gives rise to a farily pronounced self-loathing streak. See, for instance, the way that she convinces herself that she’s not “really” talented in the weeks following a performance of a new song, in which she sang lead, gone awry. Throughout the show’s second major arc, she tries to settle for less, only for that to end up making her feel worse. It’s a punch to the gut. She reaches her lowest point when she slips into a McDonald’s incognito, hoping—and then actively fantasizing—that one of the other patrons will recognize her. It is, and I mean this with no malice in my heart whatsoever, truly pathetic, in the most profound sense of that term. I have been this person; lots of people have been this person, seeking petty validation from random strangers, only then to feel even worse when we don’t get it. It is a truly miserable feeling, the sort of thing that can swallow a performer’s psyche whole if left unchecked.
But SHINEPOST is not a show that wallows in these kinds of things. The point, after all, of showing you what this kind of character is like in the dark is to then lift them out of that darkness. Kyouka’s manager—an important character in his own right—is able to convince her that actively wanting to be special, that selfishly, shamelessly wanting to feel, even if just for a moment, like the center of someone’s universe, is not just okay but is expected of her. That’s where this column’s header quote comes from; and it’s one that will stick with me for a while. Sure enough, when she’s able to get out of her own head and adopt the mentality of just letting herself honestly want what she wants, she absolutely aces the next performance of her song. In doing so, she shoots her biggest fan, the one person to whom Kyouka really is so much more than just another face in the crowd, through the heart. She straight up faints; it’s hard to blame her.
Granted, this is just one particular arc. (Not even the most recent one, as Rio, the spunky short girl of the group, is the star of the current arc.) But it’s illustrative of SHINEPOST‘s character writing strengths, which make the series feel far more grounded than Superstar despite its rather weird high premise. (Would you believe something this good is being sold on the premise that the idol group’s manager can tell when people are lying? He’s a good character and all, but it’s a downright bizarre thing to hook your whole show on.)
Speaking of, let’s pivot to Superstar. Comparing the shows along a character writing axis in particular is rather unfair. After all; the Love Live series has never dealt with the ‘industry’ side of the idol industry, preferring to bubble its wholly fictional school idol concept off from real world concerns, which severely curtails the possibility of any kind of industry drama plotlines. (This despite the fact that, of course, any of the actual idols who voice the Love Live girls are industry professionals who’ve generally had to work very hard to get where they are, but that’s a conversation for another day.) Inherently, this isn’t a huge problem, and a different Love Live series, last season’s followup to Nijigasaki High School Idol Club, managed to turn that lack of serious engagement with what being an idol means ‘in the real world’ into a strength. Nijigasaki envisions, essentially, a utopia, where the distinction between idol and fan is nearly nonexistent and not only can everyone be an idol, but everyone should at least give it a shot. It has a particular kind of rare fervor that you don’t see in most of its peers over on the sunny optimism side of the idol anime spectrum.
Superstar, meanwhile, has what one could easily argue are higher stakes; its main cast are trying to win the titular Love Live. This is, in theory, a fertile ground for, if not the same kind of character drama as SHINEPOST‘s, at least something in the same general ballpark. Instead, though, most of Superstar‘s best episodes, especially here in its second season, have been a lot sillier than the looming presence of any serious competition would imply. One of season 2’s biggest developments so far is Liella expanding to eight (and eventually nine, although we’re not there yet) members. Two of those members, the stoic oddball Shiki Wakana (Wakana Ookuma), and the willful idol otaku Mei Yoneme (Akane Yabushima), recently got an episode all their own.
Shiki and Mei seen here in their natural states of “looking kinda stoned” and “being flustered and embarrassed.”
And while there was some focus on the twos’ relationship with each other (which goes past “best friends” all the way into borderline homoromantic, a plus for some viewers, certainly), the episode was mostly about wacky misunderstandings. It was a very good episode about wacky misunderstandings, but this, and similar examples throughout the series so far have made Superstar feel like a bit of a lightweight in comparison. Cheerful, fun, amusing, but not anything more than that.
Part of this, I think, comes down to Superstar‘s idols themselves. Liella are not by any means a bad group, and I’d put them on par with SHINEPOST‘s TiNgS in a vacuum, but none of its members come close to the sheer magnetism of, say, Nijigasaki‘s Setsuna Yuki or Lanzhu Zhong. You really need a certain level of camp to elevate this sort of story beyond the merely pleasant. And unfortunately, while there is camp and theatricality present in Love Live! Superstar, it’s mostly not from Liella themselves.
Let’s talk about Wien Margarete (Yuina). Or Vienna Margaret, depending on whose subtitles you’re looking at.
Introduced in Superstar‘s third episode as a rival not just for Liella on the whole but for center Kanon Shibuya (Sayuri Date) specifically, she actually hasn’t appeared in person in the two episodes since. She almost doesn’t need to; Wien has an absolutely electric magnetism that, honestly, none of the Liella girls can really match. What you have here is perhaps the classic problem of simply making the antagonist too cool. (And make no mistake, with her sneering dismissal of Liella and the entire Love Live competition, Wien is absolutely a villain, in as much as Love Live ever has those. Kanon frankly even seems a bit scared of her, despite the fact that Wien is literally a middle schooler.)
Granted, if a middle schooler with lavender hair started showing up outside my house to tell me how bad I was at singing, I might be scared of her too.
But at the same time, I’m unwilling to slam Superstar too hard over this. It is entirely possible that in the season’s back half the rest of Liella will rise to the occasion. Their actual talent, both in-universe and, outside of it, that of their voice actresses, is not remotely the problem, it’s just that you can’t beat crazy shit like glowing butterflies, iron clockwork, and a gothic lolita dress adorned with black feathers by being a pretty good idol group. (And honestly the show itself seems to be on my side here; go watch that clip and look at how Liella react to her. Those are the faces of girls who know they’re outclassed.)
Perhaps, then, Liella will meet that challenge at some point. As it stands, they just don’t have this kind of theatricality, but seeing the group transform into the sort of people who could pull that off would be very much worth watching. (If, still, an entirely different universe than what SHINEPOST is doing.)
In a sense, and to return back to our opening question, this is really less a criticism of Superstar and more of an open query. Now that this genre is entering its second full decade of being among the most successful and popular anime subgenres, where is it going? There’s a lot I haven’t touched on here, outside just these two shows. Right now, Waccha Primagi, a children’s anime that blends the idol and magical girl genres has been unwilling to let the possible outbreak of a war between humans and magic users—after the local Beyonce stand-in ascended to divinity and became an angry Sun God, naturally—interfere with its once-an-episode CGI idol performances. Last season, there was Healer Girl, which I would not really call an idol anime, but its dynamic approach to music certainly borrows something from the genre, and which it spun into hallucinatory dream sequences of rare beauty. And this very season, there are a few idol anime I simply haven’t seen; namely League of Nations Air Force Aviation Magic Band Luminous Witches, whose full English title is an absolute joy to have to copy and paste every time and which is a spinoff of the polarizing Strike Witches series, and Phantom of the Idol, which simply by starring a male lead, is already so far removed from almost everything else on this page that it’s almost another conversation entirely.
Perhaps, then, trying to say much about what idol anime will look like next year, in 5 years, in 10, is foolish in the first place. Writing this piece has been an exercise in perspective. Always a valuable thing, and I hope you’ve found reading it interesting as well.
Nonetheless, the fact remains. Whether the rest of the ’20s brings us more stories of passion and drama within the idol industry, and whatever twists they may have, more sunlit visions of a world where anyone and everyone can become the performer they’ve always dreamed of being, or something in between or even farther afield, the idol genre does not look like it’s going anywhere any time soon. People love pop music, and they love pop stars. That much seems unlikely to change.
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