Category: anime

Posted on in anime, Seasonal Impression Roundups

Seasonal First Impressions: Something is Wrong in AKEBI’S SAILOR UNIFORM

Lush, rolling green hills. They’re such a piece of staple iconography for a certain genre of summery anime that it’s a bit of a meme in some circles. I don’t think the people behind Akebi’s Sailor Uniform would much care about that. “Irony” is a foreign word to the language this series speaks. It’s all do-your-best’s, believe-in-yourself’s, sunshine and shimmering water. Everyone in Akebi is constantly sort of half-blushing, and always looks like they might break into a grin at any moment. I think in western otakudom this school of anime filmography is more associated with theatrical movies than it is TV anime, but it’s the space Akebi works in, and it is perhaps best understood as trying to achieve that aesthetic. I would not say it succeeds, but it makes an admirable go of it. But before we get into minutiae like production, there are two things I need to disclose up front that may seem random at first, but I assure you both will be relevant.

I went to a Catholic School, and I absolutely hate the sound of people clipping their nails.

As you might guess, Akebi’s Sailor Uniform is about a schoolgirl. A girl entering a private middle school, in fact. This is Komichi Akebi. Our protagonist and, really, in this first episode, the only truly important character. (Voiced by Manatsu Murakami. This seems to be her first time in a leading role.) For reasons we have not been told yet (and which I am sure will be divulged to us at some point in a future episode), Komichi puts a whole lot of value in the idea of going to a fancy private academy and getting to wear a fancy sailor uniform.

On a basic level, I find this kind of hard to relate to, but going by their lavishly drawn house, Komichi’s family seem to be pretty well off. Maybe this is the kind of thing rich kids get really invested in? I went to a Catholic middle school, and my memories of getting the uniforms I needed are largely tied to the unpleasantly stale air inside every uniform shop I’ve ever been in. Maybe things are different in Japan, I don’t know. Komichi’s mother actually makes her uniform for her, which seems like an utterly absurd level of burden to put on the parent, here, but again, maybe this is just what rich families do. I wouldn’t know. She literally cries tears of joy when she finally gets it, which is honestly more funny than anything.

Being “unrelatable” is not a huge problem for popular art. I have never been imprisoned in a magical tower, but I like Tower of God just fine. I’ve never been a multi-millionaire, but I still listen to Rick Ross. That’s not the issue. But Akebi’s Sailor Uniform leans really hard on the–to the series, apparently self-evident–idea that sailor uniforms are near-religious symbols of prestige, class, coolness, and self-improvement. It is totally foreign to my experience, and for this reason and a number of others (which I’ll get to), my strongest impression of Akebi is not qualitative, it’s merely that this show is really freakin’ weird. Deceptively so, even, given its simple premise.

For example, the visual approach I mentioned in the opening paragraph? It actively works against the show. Akebi looks nice in a general sense, especially the backgrounds. But it doesn’t nail the look it seems to be going for, which has the effect of making everything look just a bit “off.” The characters themselves are hit hardest here, with their constant blushing and mix of old-school and contemporary design tropes making them look like stoned aliens in some cuts. The whole thing just feels strange.

The series’ take on Osamu Dezaki’s “postcard memory” technique dives full-on into the uncanny valley.

Maybe this is the lingering memory of Cocoon Entwined influencing my perception, but I almost expected something sinister to happen at some point over the course of this episode. Nothing ever does, and I don’t think it ever will, but the fact that I even entertained the possibility speaks to the series’ bizarre feel. Not helping things is the leering camera, which seems to treat Komichi herself with an almost fetishistic level of attention. Despite the fact that the show is, on a surface level, not as “horny” as the other series I covered today, I felt slightly uncomfortable way more often when watching it.

Some of this, admittedly, might be the point. But that “might” is doing a lot of heavy lifting.

In the second half of the episode, Komichi learns that, somehow, she got the design for the uniform she was supposed to give her mother wrong. Sailor uniforms are what the girls at the academy wore when her mom went to school there, but nowadays they wear blazers. (Sidenote here; for my money the blazers look way nicer and also more comfortable, but that’s just me.) Improbably, the school’s principal lets her wear the old uniform anyway, even though it will make her stick out like a sore thumb. Komichi understandably worries about being bullied about this, because teenagers are assholes.*

The fact that this woman actually kinda looks like the (extremely mean) principal I had at school does make me wonder if some part of Akebi is meant to distress me specifically.

When she actually gets to school–very early, and way before most other students–she meets Erika Kizaki. (Played by Sora Amamiya, who has been in a bunch of things but most recently of note to readers of this blog, was Yachiyo in Magia Record.) Erika does not notice Komichi when she enters the room and continues obliviously going about her morning ritual. Which consists of clipping her toenails and then sniffing the clippers.

I really want to be clear that I am not taking anything out of context here.

What the fuck.

On this incredibly bizarre note, they strike up a friendship. It’s nice, I suppose? I can buy that they genuinely get along, at least, which is important. There’s little else to the episode, and Akebi ends by establishing itself as the rare anime where the main characters do not sit by the classroom window.

To some point, I think the characters’ general strangeness may be intentional. A “wow, look at all these weird girls finding friendship with each other. Isn’t that adorable?” sort of thing. And hey, I guess it is cute, in a way. But the show’s general feel–something I acknowledge is very much based on a lot of things that vary from person to person–make it feel almost unsettling.

To be quite honest, I have basically no idea what to make of Akebi. If any of this sounds interesting, maybe check it out. Or even if not, maybe check it out, maybe my entire perspective here is just wildly off-base. I don’t know. For me, the entire episode just gives me very strange vibes, and I do not think I will be watching more Akebi. I’m sure Komichi herself will be fine, but I have no real wish to follow her story.

Grade: Sixth
The Takeaway: ???

*If you are a teenager, and not an asshole, I apologize for the generalization, but I’m speaking from experience here.

Wanna 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 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.

Posted on in anime, Seasonal Impression Roundups

Seasonal First Impressions: Everything is Right on CUE!

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.

I went into CUE! extremely skeptical.

The opening three or so minutes of the series are–quite literally–another show entirely. This is a cold open. Mid-genre pastiche, as an unnamed green haired heroine and her male companion flee a flying fortress aboard a speedboat. It’s a legitimately really cool throwback to a bygone era of science fantasy shoujo action anime that counted classics like The Vision of Escaflowne among its number. It’s an opening unlike anything the season has offered so far.

This isn’t what CUE! is actually about, though.

CUE!, you see, is an anime about anime. Its cast are voice actors, and that opening scene is a series our protagonist–Haruna Mutsuishi–is working on. In series like these, I am always immediately led to wonder about the actual women voicing these characters. Is it surreal to voice a protagonist whose ambitions are an exaggerated, cartoon take on your own? Maybe it’s oddly reassuring, knowing that people care about, at least, some version of your story? I can only speculate. Regardless, that is our actual starting line with CUE!

In the minutes immediately following that cold open, things don’t look terribly promising. No longer needing to be a convincing pastiche, the animation stiffens. More pertinently, as Haruna arrives to her new job at a voice acting agency (named AiRBLUE, which is vaguely obnoxious in a true to life way), we are introduced to a truly silly number of other girls. Fifteen actresses in all, with the agency’s actual staff bringing the character total up to 18. Each gets only a vanishingly small few seconds to introduce themselves. Most prove themselves to fit into various archetypes; there’s a chuuni who says she’s from Hell, a nervous girl, an overly brash girl who doesn’t quite seem to get what’s going on, etc. etc. You get the picture; we’ve been here before.

All of these are, frankly, pretty bad signs. Sometimes an anime can handle a cast this large even on a fairly tight time budget, but it’s rare. Most things are not The Idolmaster. Last season, the atrociously dull Pride of Orange couldn’t manage to properly characterize a comparatively modest six. What hope, then, does CUE! have, even at twice that show’s length?

Well, here’s the thing. Sometimes the only thing you actually need to make a series tick, at least for its first few episodes, is a single good trick up your sleeve. And CUE! has a great one.

Our characters’ time at AiRBLUE kicks off with an unexpected, on-the-spot script read. The script? Hamlet, specifically a conversation between Hamlet himself and Ophelia, rendered in the sub track back into period-accurate Elizabethan English. Having your characters read a Shakespeare play is an absurd idea. When last year’s Kageki Shoujo!! did it in its last few episodes, it was a flex, a demonstration that all these characters had become so known to the audience that they could each deliver convincingly distinct takes on a literary classic. (Romeo & Juliet, there.) CUE! deciding to do it in its first episode is an act of monumental hubris. But this is where the aforementioned trick up CUE!‘s sleeve comes into play; the series cheats a little bit.

When we get our first Hamlet/Ophelia pair–the spacey ex-child actress Mahoro Miyaji as Ophelia, and AiRBLUE’s talent coach as Hamlet–the reality of the recording room falls away. In its place, an expansive medieval castle.

CUE!’s opening fakeout was no fakeout at all. It is a recurring technique the show seems to plan to use going forward, literally transporting its characters into the stories they’re acting out as they do, cutting back and forth between those fantasy-worlds and the tense, actual line reads they’re doing in the real world, with other characters observing and commenting as transparent ghosts within the “play.” It is a blast to watch. It’s probably the quickest a series has ever won me over.

Mahoro and the talent coach’s take on Hamlet is fairly traditional. What really kicks the episode past “solid” and into “arguably brilliant” is what happens after. In an incredible bit of economic character-building, we see very brief excerpts from other Hamlet/Ophelia pairs. (One girl reads Hamlet like a snotty shonen protagonist, which is hilarious. Sadly, we don’t get visual aids for these shorter reads.)

And then there’s the pair that Haruna herself is involved in. alongside the ponytailed tomboy Maika Takatori. (The two seem to hit it off really well, to say the least.)

The easy thing to do here would be for Haruna and Maika to do essentially what Mahoro did, to transport herself mentally to a sprawling medieval castle and give a fairly traditional line read.

Haruna and Maika do not do that. Instead, we get this.

Another shoujo fantasy daydream. I’ll give you this, okay? Maybe I’m just easily impressed, but I love shit like this. In the moment that Haruna and Maika act out their scene, they are not themselves, they are an epaulette-adorned girl-prince and her heartbroken sorceress(?) princess. It’s gay as hell. It’s theatrical in a way that completely transcends its production. It’s amazing.

There isn’t actually much more to the episode after this scene, but does there need to be? This is a point made and taken; this is what CUE! is about. The act of performance itself transports us to whole other worlds, and truly inspiring performers can bring these worlds to life for their audiences. That is a hell of an opening statement for a gacha game adaption that, as far as I can tell, rather few people had any serious expectations for, to make. Almost impossibly, CUE! earns the right to make it, in this scene alone if nowhere else. Obviously, CUE! did not invent this particular trick, but it uses it damn well, and it makes for a knockout finish to its first episode.

Also: Shippers eat your heart out.

The episode ends with the promise that next week our girls are going to be auditioning for something called Bloom Ball, which looks an awful lot like a magical girl anime. I can’t wait.

Also: out of lack of anywhere else that mentioning this little tidbit fits, I will do so here. It’s interesting that the comparative inexperience of the characters is mirrored in at least some of the voice cast. As far as I can tell, this is the first major role Haruna’s VA– Yurina Uchiyama–has ever had.

In any case, keep an eye on this one.

Grade: A
The Takeaway: I am hesitant to call anything a truly essential watch this early in the season. What I will say is that CUE!’s first episode is a genuinely impressive piece of showmanship that I think nothing so far has really matched. I would recommend almost anyone reading this at least check said episode out.

Wanna 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 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.

Posted on in anime, Seasonal Impression Roundups

Seasonal First Impressions: A Short Stay IN THE LAND OF LEADALE

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.

I’m not going to sit here and pretend I quite understand the “die-and-reincarnate” school of the isekai genre. I have liked a few of them in my time, but generally in spite of that central conceit, not because of it. In The Land of Leadale is fairly genre-typical. Somewhere in Japan a power outage at a hospital cuts the life support systems, and a patient passes away. She is reborn into the titular MMO as her elf avatar Cayna. It’s fairly standard stuff, although there are a handful of caveats here to separate us from the most basic spins on the genre.

For one, Cayna doesn’t simply get zooped into the game as she remembers it. 200 years have passed, and she can’t use her foreknowledge of the game to just cheat her way out of any bad situations, Otome Flag-style. (Not a knock, I quite like Otome Flag.) This also gives us a central mystery, which prevents Leadale from feeling like it’s aiming for a pure wish fulfillment vibe that it probably couldn’t pull off.

The visual work on this thing is, to be nice, a bit simple. But the series makes the intriguing decision to strive for a pseudo-retro look, especially in gag faces and chibi cut-asides. It’s a small thing, but it does help the anime stand out a bit, and turns the lo-fi production into a charm point instead of a detriment.

If you can’t practically hear the “ha ha ha ha!” radiating from this image, we are from different generations of anime fan, to say the least.

About that central mystery: because Cayna’s been MIA for so long, Leadale is both not as she left it and seemingly not in great shape in general. When she plonks down a stack of silver coins the innkeeper at the inn she’s staying at hurriedly tells her to not flash so much money. Later that night, she’s nearly robbed in her sleep, with only bit of magic that she presumably set up beforehand preventing such from coming to pass. We do gain some insight into what’s gone on in Leadale in the intervening 200 years, but it’s not much. This is all we get.

Cayna seems to adjust pretty quickly. Again, not rare for this genre, although the few cuts back to her pre-reincarnation life are bizarrely depressing for a show that’s otherwise fairly cozy and upbeat. There’s also a funny bit where she learns (from a magic tower guardian who talks like a delinquent schoolgirl) that because of something she did in the game some time ago, she has kids. Frankly, as someone who tends to play video games pretty fast and loose, the idea of things I do in them having long-term consequences is terrifying, but that’s just me.

If it seems like I’m struggling a bit to come up with things to say here, that’s because I kind of am? In addition to this not being my genre, In The Land of Leadale is a fairly slight series in just about every respect, at least so far. It has some charm, but not much else. On the other hand, I’m loathe to condemn something that is so outside of my usual wheelhouse to begin with, to say nothing of the fact that this is a series that’s clearly not trying to make a bombastic first impression. If any of this sounds appealing to you, maybe give Leadale a shot. Its first episode is, if nothing else, a breezy and pleasant watch. (Those cuts to the hospital aside. Again, this is a weird genre convention that I don’t totally understand.) You could certainly do a lot worse.

Grade: C
The Verdict: If you like simple, cozy slice-of-life style isekai maybe give this one a look. Otherwise, you can pretty safely pass on it.

Wanna 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 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.

Posted on in anime, Seasonal Impression Roundups

Seasonal First Impressions: POLICE IN A POD is Comedic Homicide

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.

There are many reasons that people are generally distrustful of the police. A lot of those reasons are fairly complex and rooted in longstanding authoritative structures, some of which have pretty nasty roots. In the US, there has been a concerted movement to, as consumers, move away from media that depicts police officers in an unambiguously positive light. The neologism “copaganda” was coined for this exact purpose, to make it clear to others that yes, depicting cops as superhuman arbiters of justice (as is the case in numerous cop shows) is kind of a problem. “Copaganda” generally is applied as a label to tonally serious fare, but comedies, such as say Brooklyn 99, aren’t immune either.

While distrust of police is a broader issue, the circumstances that lead to this willful withdrawal from certain kinds of television are fairly specifically American. Japan’s law enforcement has its own issues–ones I’m largely wildly unqualified to speak on–but as an American viewer even the goofiest show that revolves around the police is a hard sell. (This is one of the reasons I’ve never even tried to watch You’re Under Arrest!) I try to judge every anime I cover as fairly as I can, but if I seem unduly harsh on Police in a Pod, MADHOUSE‘s latest, do keep in mind there are reasons for that. Taking art on its own terms is important, as a critic, but it is pretty much impossible to step outside of your own head.

All of which would matter a lot more if Police in a Pod required any nuance to discuss. Here’s a secret about popular art in general; you can get away with a lot if what you make is actually good. Easily impressed eggheads like me will heap praise on things for being difficult or messy because they engage with problematic concepts while still being compelling. We do it all the time. Frankly, we probably do it too much. But you absolutely have to nail the qualitative aspect. Failing all else, you have to at least be interesting.

Police in a Pod is not good. Or interesting. Or for that matter, much of anything.

This series’ first episode is so utterly fucking unfunny, so lacking in charm or really any other merit, that it practically writes an article about itself. Where to start with this wretched little thing? Let’s be nice and start with one of the tiny handful of things it almost gets right. Our main character, Mai Kawai, is a box cop. She joined the force because of the pay and because she failed the exams for every other civil service job she tried, she wants to support herself and her dad and police work was the only way to do it. She honestly seems to have a bit of a self-loathing issue about it, going by some stuff she says in this episode! She also complains a lot about how police work is hard and no one respects her, which, gosh, I can’t imagine why.

‘One of the very, very few things that could redeem this conceptual wreck of a series is if it ended with Mai quitting police work entirely, something she actually considers (but sadly doesn’t follow through on) in the episode’s opening minutes. It’s a real shame, she could perhaps enter a more respectable and fulfilling field. Like gravedigging. Or insurance fraud. That won’t happen for reasons I will shortly make apparent, but hey, it’s fun to dream.

So, our main character is baseline sympathetic, that’s one thing done…we’ll say mostly right. What about her partner, Seiko Fuji, the series’ other main character?

Sigh.

Folks, I’m going to break a rule of criticism and go on a tangent about my upbringing here, please bear with me.

My uncle is a police chief. He was a big figure in my early life, and I hate the guy. He’s a miserable man who fights with his wife, gets drunk on Mike’s Hard Lemonade, complains about both other cops and the “civilians” he’s ostensibly sworn to protect, and says racist bullshit about minorities when he thinks he’s in comfortable company. He is a fucking loathsome human being and every single day I am grateful for the fact that, since I’ve moved out of state, I will likely never see him again.

I feel like Seiko and my uncle would get along great.

Seiko’s main personality trait seems to be that she is helpful to peoples’ faces and then bitches about them when she thinks no one is listening. Because this is a “comedy series,” people–usually Mai–often are listening, and their mechanically predictable “wow, how could you say that?!” reactions to her petulant, entitled nonsense are supposed to be funny. They are not. Seiko–and honestly, Police in a Pod itself–seems to think that interactions between police officers and the public should consist either of cops bullying criminals both petty and serious into pants-pissing terror, or innocent citizens fearfully cowering in submission as they, say, accept a $150 ticket without complaint. Seiko is openly disdainful of the idea that she should be a positive presence in her community, or even just be nice to people. She’s a deeply unpleasant character. If this is supposed to be satirical it doesn’t come across, it just seems like the show happens to be following a total asshole because it thinks she’s funny.

I will admit that I have a hard time with characters like this in general, but when you put them in a position of authority and their abuse of that authority is the entire joke? That goes over a line from “artistically unpleasant” and crosses straight into “genuinely fucked up.” It boggles the mind that something this much of a non-entity artistically could muster up the gumption to actually be offensive, but Police in a Pod somehow manages it over the 20-odd minute runtime of its first episode.

None of this is to say that Police in a Pod actually seems to like Seiko. When jokes are made at her expense, they tend to look like this, and her total lack of reaction is notably weird.

But she’s never actually punished–even in a comedic way that would fit the show’s ostensible tone–for her arrogance or her bullying. That’s breaking a pretty basic comedic rule, a sort of “what goes up must come down” of character arrogance. In of itself, that’s not terribly surprising, because on top of everything else, Police in a Pod is a terribly staid production. Nothing has any real pop, there aren’t any interesting cuts or visual tricks. Even the soundtrack is boring. Were its premise not so gallingly tone-deaf, it would be hard to muster up much an opinion about this series at all.

Lest you think I’m being too hard on Police in a Pod, one of the vignettes here sees Mai–the more sympathetic of the two leads, mind you!–essentially explain and endorse a slight twist on Broken Windows theory to a bunch of school children. (Her explanation as to why it’s bad to ride doubles on a bike is that it will show criminals that they’re free to break rules in the area. This is provably stupid; the reason to not ride doubles on a bike is because it’s fucking dangerous. Just saying that never occurs to her, for some reason.)

I could go on, but I think I’ve made my point. If anything worse than this manages to come out this season, we are in for a truly dire time indeed. Don’t watch this show. It’s miserable.

Grade: F
The Takeaway: Irredeemably unfunny and lacking in any other merit, this series is to be avoided at all costs.

Wanna 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 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.

Posted on in anime

Seasonal First Impressions: TOKYO 24TH WARD is Off The Rails, on a Crazy Train

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.

There’s gonna be a recurring narrative throughout some of these impression posts this season, possibly this year on the whole, and it’s not a particularly positive one. CloverWorks are doing a lot of anime in 2022. More than one studio can reasonably handle. I put the blame on CloverWorks’ corporate masters at Aniplex more than the studio themselves, but this fact is going to loom over every single anime they produce this year, including a number of highly anticipated adaptions. If any of those adaptions bottom out, the general public will not be kind.

Tokyo 24th Ward, however, is not one of those adaptions. It’s an original production, and comparisons to a thoroughly divisive anime CloverWorks made almost exactly a year ago–and my own favorite anime of 2021–are inevitable. These comparisons will do Tokyo 24th few favors. Tokyo 24th is not Wonder Egg Priority. It has weaknesses, even this early on, that WEP never did, and its strengths are completely different. They are whole worlds away from each other.

Consider this. The first half of the first episode features parkour and graffiti that digitally inserts itself into a city, signifiers of flash and style. But also, it opens with an arson attack and a solid five-minute run of the episode takes place at a funeral mass. It’s a bit inscrutable.

Here’s a question though: a single episode in, is that really a problem?

Set the question of whether this will be a good anime aside for a moment. It will absolutely be an interesting anime. Even the episode’s first (and worse) half is weird. It’s fairly slow, there’s a winding narrative voiceover about the alternate history the show takes place in (boring), and a lot of fucking annoying waffling on what it means “to be a hero.” Main character (and presumable cousin to Yomogi from SSSS.DYNAZENON) Shuuta Aoi failed to save someone–his friend / maybe love interest / other friend’s sister Asumi Suidou–in that arson attack, you see, during a time where he and his buddies (the other two main characters; reckless Ran Akagi and uptight political heir Kouki Suido) had a habit of playing hero and trying to solve others’ problems. They got in over their head.

Naturally, the incident at the arson fire puts a stop to all that, and by the time of the show’s present the three have drifted apart. Shuuta has become a NEET living above his mother’s bakery, Ran is a Twitch streamer / graffiti artist whose creations “hack” themselves into the city, and Kouki enjoys the privileged but miserable existence as the son of the titular 24th Ward’s mayor during a transitional period from self-rule toward integration into Tokyo proper.

They live very different lives, and the funeral mass is the first time in ages they’ve all been in the same place. A subsequent and by chance meetup at a local restaurant serves to highlight how little they have in common anymore, and there is frankly way too much puffed-up talk about each characters’ worldview, especially Ran and Kouki’s, given their very different stances on authority. This indicates a solid underlying political sensibility, but the series does not handle it in a compelling fashion in this first episode. It feels surprisingly dry.

Then, just when things seem like they’re going to get boring, all three friends get a phone call apparently from the dead Asumi. The ensuing scene is a surreal headtrip wherein the camera literally dives into our characters’ brains, and Asumi’s ghost beats the three of them over the head with a lightly modified version of the Trolley Problem while a bunch of gaudy VFX fire off and make the whole thing look like a fever dream. It’s insane. It’s instantly memorable. It is by far the best moment in the whole episode.

But that’s not to say that what follows it is any slouch either. Suddenly dialed in to some supernatural force (Ran later speculates that it’s some kind of “brain hacking” which, hey, sure), the three realize that this is no mere thought experiment here. There is actually an out-of-control train that is going to run over an innocent person–their friend Mari, plus her dog–and if they stop it in the wrong way, the train will derail, killing everyone aboard. This extremely misses the point of the Trolley Problem, which is intended to be a theoretical ethical dilemma. I would also argue that since it gives the episode a sense of urgency and direction, that that does not matter in the slightest.

The three engage in some real superhero bullshit, and Tokyo 24th improbably backs up all that “what is a hero? 🤔” silliness from the first half of the premiere. Shuuta, in particular, is incredible here. He’s faster than a speeding bullet and more powerful than a locomotive, although the sick-ass roof-running he pulls off here isn’t something Superman would ever do.

I won’t bore you by describing their methodology in detail, but with their powers combined, our heroes save the day. It’s cheesy in the way a lot of the best anime are. It rules.

The episode ends on a down note, though. With Shuuta assuming that the phantom phonecall means Asumi is still alive. Ran is skeptical, Kouki–Asumi’s brother–is downright insulted by the idea, and the two almost come to blows. Personally, I’m on Shuuta’s side here, since he seems to be the only one who actually understands what sort of show he’s in.

So that’s what actually happens in Tokyo 24th‘s first episode. How it happens is another matter. Production-wise, and despite the director’s own concerns, it looks pretty good so far. But it doesn’t really look conventional. There’s a real love of flashy scene transitions here, and there’s also a trick that recurs a number of times where cells are directly layered over each other to give the appearance of events “popping in” on top of each other. It takes some getting used to, and it makes shots look over-crowded in still form, but I’d grown more fond of it than not by episode’s end. It works best when deployed with more lighthearted or more action-oriented scenes. When used against a more serious, dramatic, backdrop, it just looks silly.

My hope is that Tokyo 24th Ward manages to hold things together against all odds. This is a weird anime, and that’s a good thing to be in a season that so far looks to mostly be rather conventional genre fare. (Not that there’s anything inherently wrong with that, either. But it helps Tokyo 24th stand out.) Who knows what we’ll be saying about this anime in six weeks, but I’d say it’s worth keeping an eye on.

Also: who the hell was this?

Grade: B
The Takeaway: Skepticism because of the whole CloverWorks situation is entirely warranted here. But, if you’re looking for something that’s just weird and fun to look at and aren’t too concerned about whether or not it ends up being a masterpiece, this is probably worth checking out.

Wanna 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 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.

Posted on in anime, Reviews

(REVIEW) There’s Nothing to be Proud of About PRIDE OF ORANGE

This review was commissioned. That means I was paid to watch and review the series in question. You can learn about my commission policies and how to buy commissions of your own here. This review was commissioned by The Mugcord Discord Server.

This review contains spoilers for the reviewed material. But you really shouldn’t care in this case. Seriously, don’t watch this.

If you close your eyes, you can almost picture it.

The time is early 2020. The place? An opulent office space somewhere in Tokyo, the residence of a chief CEO. A real big shot. His suit and his coke habit mark him as a survivor of the ’80s entertainment biz. He’s been places. He’s seen things. He’s helped stars rise and he’s made them fall.

Today is a day like any other, when a representative pitching a new series–an anime–strides into his office. The rep talks smooth as Crisco, and the boss doesn’t need much convincing. His pitch is simple; everyone’s got an idol show. Your company needs one too. The boss is hung up on only one point. He’s been around the block, he knows his stuff, and he knows that just blindly copying this hot new trend won’t cut it. They need a twist.

Idly, he taps a remote on his desk, and the jumbo flatscreen on the other wall lights up. It’s a sports channel, but they’re not broadcasting any of Japan’s typical national pastimes. Instead, he sees an ice rink, and a black puck zipping across it.

He smiles at the serendipity as the rep stands there confused. “Son.” The boss says, his tone cool and confident. “There’s our twist.”

This is probably not how Pride of Orange, a near-instantly forgotten entry in the “idol anime but also something else” subgenre from late last year, actually got greenlit. But it makes more sense to me than the alternative. Some washed-up suit OK’ing this is the only way it seems plausible that it was made at all. What’s the other explanation? That this was focus-tested? That multiple people sat down and assured themselves that yes, idols playing hockey is exactly what the youth of Japan want in their cartoons?

If the show had actually been good, it’s possible I’d be sitting here praising the ingenuity of conjoining these two things that absolutely do not go together at all. But we don’t live in a world where Pride of Orange is a good show, so that’s irrelevant. In the US, this is the kind of thing that gets mocked on VH1 by washed-up celebrities 20 years after it airs off the surreal premise alone. Some real Baywatch Nights shit. I don’t know if they have a similar pop culture backwash hall of shame practice in Japan, and if so, whether it includes anime, but Pride of Orange had better hope so on both counts, because there’s no way anyone’s remembering it otherwise.

You might take all this to mean Pride of Orange is bad. You’d be right to. It is bad! But every single bad anime I’ve ever covered on Magic Planet Anime before has had a saving grace that Puraore does not; they were bad in interesting ways. Pride of Orange is bad in the same way that Imagine Dragons, ugly logos, and direct-to-Netflix specials are bad. It is an obvious product of a pop cultural media machine completely failing to deliver the one thing that said machine should always be able to. In this case, a baseline watchable cartoon. Beyond its ridiculous premise, there just isn’t much to it. It’s audiovisual wallpaper. An active test of your patience that dares you, with its sheer brain-numbing mundanity, to blink first. This is anime-by-algorithm, a so-inoffensive-it’s-offensive patchwork of tropes, plotlines, and even character designs cribbed from other, better anime, kludged together by grey-suited executives without a single creative bone in their bodies. That’s before we get to its more serious flaws, mind you.

So, what is this horrible abomination unto mankind? Well, as mentioned, it’s theoretically an idol series where the idols are also a hockey team. In practice it’s more the other way around. The “idol” bit feels tacked-on enough (a grand total of two dance sequences, with almost no buildup, over its whole run) that I wonder if it wasn’t initially conceived as a straight sports series and then later altered. It does have the cast structure of an idol series, at least, and all characters present fall into broad archetypes that the genre popularized, but quite unlike some personal favorites in it (say, 2011’s The Idolmaster, 2018’s Zombie Land Saga, or 2020’s Love Live! Nijigasaki High School Idol Club),* none of them have much personality. Probably the best of the lot are Naomi and Riko, whose distinction mostly comes from the fact that they’re quite obviously dating each other. (Their brief arc, which culminates in episode 9, is unquestionably the highlight of the series.)

The remainder of the cast is fairly anonymous, including theoretical protagonist Manaka.

“My literal only personality trait is obnoxious cheerfulness.”

We should also talk about Youko, the team’s coach. Youko is an outlier here, because she’s not devoid of personality like most other characters. Instead, her combination of doofy catchphrases, manipulative, obnoxious personality, and general overbearing nature combine to make her come across as weirdly creepy.

In one of the show’s “arcs” (the term seems generous), she attempts to recruit the star player of a rival team, Yu, who’s recently left the life of a hockey prodigy behind to experience a normal teenagerhood. (God knows we can’t have that in our sports anime.) In her efforts, Youko resorts to tactics such as repeatedly, incessantly calling her phone, standing outside of her house and yelling(!), and engineering a situation where she deliberately leaves a pen behind when invited into Yu’s house by her grandmother. This, of course, means that Yu has to return said pen (I’d argue she doesn’t, really, but neither Yu herself nor her grandmother object to the idea). When Yu does so, Youko ropes her into a bizarre bet, which she loses, and essentially forces her to join the team. This is glossed over with the non-explanation that Yu actually enjoys being on the new team, so it doesn’t matter. Youko is similarly unpleasant to her other players, and even engages in gaslight-y emotional manipulation a few times, giving her an almost predatory vibe.

None of this is ever addressed, because Pride of Orange has neither the writing chops necessary to address it nor the forethought to simply not make the coach a skeevy weirdo in the first place. I would also argue that Youko having to quite literally trick the cast into becoming an “idol group” on top of being a hockey team feels like it betrays a broad disdain both for the show’s audience and its own genre.

“The fact that I’m allowed to be an influence in children’s lives is, on a moral level, horrific.”

But really, while Youko’s situation is the worst of the series’ many writing flaws, it’s far from the only one. Frequent issues like conflicts springing up and then being almost immediately resolved, or flashbacks grinding action scenes to a dead stop to repeat to us information we either already know or could easily infer, recur repeatedly throughout. Pride of Orange often feels like the first draft of an anime that, even were all these issues fixed, would still be merely just below average. All these little problems add up, and they make Pride of Orange an altogether miserable watching experience.

One could try to chalk all this up to Puraore’s length, but two of the anime I previously mentioned were also single cour. It is very possible, with economical character building, stylish animation, sharp writing that builds a solid triumph narrative, etc., to make your audience care about even a quite large cast in that amount of time. Pride of Orange never swings that, because it has none of those things. It doesn’t even manage to instill much of a base level thrill off the novelty of its premise, the one thing that objectively distinguishes this series from any other. In October, right around when Pride of Orange started airing, a pilot short called “SHAREDOL” managed to do that much in less than three minutes. Length is no excuse.

In the broadest sense, the problem is this. The best anime can, in the moment, feel monumental. I’ll again draw a comparison to The Idolmaster (you’ll have to forgive my lack of experience with sports anime, which would honestly be more appropriate here, but the general structures still apply). One got the sense, during the series’ climactic concert, that those girls had done everything to earn their moment. They would’ve bled and died on that stage if that’s what it took. It feels, as it’s happening, huge. All-important.

Pride of Orange manages the almost impressive feat of going in the other direction. Of making not just its parent genres, but its entire medium feel small, trivial, and trifling. While watching it, I felt transmogrified into a disapproving stepmother, finger-wagging at myself for watching these silly cartoons. And you can accuse me of projection, and say that no anime, no matter how bad, should make me feel this way. But the fact of the matter is that taken together, as a whole, Pride of Orange‘s cheez-whiz take on the sports and idol anime genres improbably transforms simple boredom into existential dread. It is such a yawning void of mediocrity that it’s somehow one of the worst anime I’ve ever seen. At the risk of repeating myself, it is distinguished from past Magic Planet Anime worst-of candidates like Speed Grapher, Big Order, The Day I Became a God, and fellow idol trainwreck 22/7 by the fact that those anime were bad in a way that still made it clear that the people behind them cared about them. They may have had any number of very serious qualitative flaws. They may have been downright offensive at times. But a certain kind of terribleness can only come from misplaced passion, which at least implies that there is passion.

Let me be very clear; this is not true of Pride of Orange. I do not get the sense that anyone who worked on this series cared about it at all. Whether because they did not want to or because circumstances made it so they could not I do not know, but the few tiny pinpricks of light that poke through–Naomi and Riko’s relationship, the vanishingly brief pair of dance numbers that comprise the entirety of the show’s “idol” element, the surprisingly solid soundtrack–make it clear that for the vast majority of this show, nobody involved gave a shit. It has all the artistry of a McDonald’s order and ends with a limp, nondescript hand gesture too lazy to be a middle finger. Make no mistake, all of this is tragic.

And perhaps the worst part is that I don’t think Puraore is unique in this way. Things like Pride of Orange are what you get when a zeitgeist is about to die. Most of my time as an active anime enthusiast has been spent in the midst of the idol anime boom. I have liked a decent amount of those shows, but I wouldn’t quite call myself an “idol anime fan.” Those who would should be wary; things like Puraore are not a good sign. The same is broadly true of the “all-female cast does stuff” supergenre in general, and for that matter, anime on the whole.

What else is there to say? Pride of Orange is symptomatic of an industry that is simply producing way, way too much content by sheer volume. Few people watched it. Fewer of those who did will remember it–fondly or otherwise–in a few years’ time. It is hypergeneric but endlessly replaceable, a combination ice skate / high heel stomping on all our faces forever. In this light, the name of the protagonists’ team sounds less like a quirky sports team name and more like a sneered command. Dream, monkeys. Dream hard. Because there has to be something better than this.

* I should make a note here to apologize to all involved with Selection Project, a different idol anime from the Fall 2021 season that I derided as unimpressive in my impressions post for the first episode. I foolishly assumed that because Pride of Orange has a stupid premise it might be more interesting than SelePro. I have heard through the grapevine that Selection Project apparently eventually got quite good, something Puraore cannot say. (And really it’s hard to imagine how it could possibly be worse.) If one of these two anime ever picks up a cult following, it will not be the one I reviewed for you today.

Wanna 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 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 is owned by Magic Planet Anime. Do not duplicate without permission. All images are owned by their original copyright holders.

Posted on in anime, Weekly Writing Roundups

The Frontline Report [1/3/22]

Hello, anime fans! Happy New Year and welcome to the first Frontline Report of 2022! As I mentioned in my plans for 2022 post, this column is going to remain mostly unchanged entering the new year. Once the seasonal schedule settles, I may move it to publishing on a different day (and we may skip a week at some point in the process), but beyond that, the Report is going to remain familiar, at least for now.

But before we can truly venture into 2022 and the season ahead, I have two anime I’d previously left unfinished from last season. Let’s talk about those, shall we?

Weekly Anime

Mieruko-chan

The first of our cleanups from the tail end of last year; Mieruko-chan was, as far as straightforward manga adaptions go, pretty typical. That is to say, it inherits most of its source material’s weaknesses and only some of its strengths. The good news is that while the more ambitious work that separates a good manga adaption from a merely OK one is largely absent from the series’ first half, it does begin to pick some of that up as it nears its conclusion. This is a series that, far from falling off after its first episode, more or less linearly gets better. Its last few episodes are its strongest, and that brings us to the “Zen arc” that closes it out.

Zen, as brought up when we last visited him, is the substitute teacher for Miko and Hana’s class. He is, in a general sense, weird. Much of the tension of the arc is predicated toward building on the assumption we already have (from his prior appearances in the series) that he’s a serial animal killer. The pieces seem to add up; a rash of missing cats in the neighborhood, his own cold and detached demeanor from other people (including his students), generally suspicious behavior, etc. But one of Mieruko-chan‘s central themes is that looks can be deceiving.

The arc’s climax, in which Zen is almost hit by a car while trying to rescue a cat, and we learn of his past with his abusive mother, is the series’ best handling of anything with real gravitas. Aided by the fact that she literally still haunts him, a situation Miko fixes for him in what is certainly her most proactive move in the whole series. This entire sequence of scenes (which takes up the bulk of the penultimate episode), is the show’s overall highlight.

So, what to make of Mieruko-chan overall? I’ve been rather critical of it in this column in the past (including at the top of this very section), but I maintain my initial impression that what it does right outweighs what it does wrong. I still might point anyone interested in the series to the manga first and foremost, but the visual snap (and consequently, additional narrative weight) added to these last few episodes definitely makes the anime worth watching as well.

Then there’s the characters. Any series that has both serious and comparatively lighthearted components will end up judged on the former over the latter, but Mieruko-chan‘s comedic chops really solidify in this last arc as Miko, Hana, and Julia’s dynamic clicks into its final shape. My main hope for a second season is not as much because I am interested in the resolution of the story arc (although I am), but more because I just want to see these three delightful dummies palling around town more.

(Also, if the subtext between these two isn’t intentional, I’ll eat my hat.)

A shout out has to also be given to the translators here, whose quirky script really helps Mieruko-chan‘s comedy come across in English. Far too many comedy manga and anime end up falling flat when translated “literally,” and it’s for the best they didn’t go with that approach here.

So that’s the long and short of it. Will Mieruko-chan change anyone’s life? No, but it’s solid genre fare in an under-represented genre, and that is more than enough. I think the best thing I can say about Mieruko-chan on a personal level is that despite any criticisms I may have, if they made a second season, I would absolutely watch it. And really, isn’t that the only metric of quality you really need?

Rumble Garanndoll

I think if you wanted to, it wouldn’t be that hard to make a case against Rumble Garanndoll. The series does the stock irresponsible anime-about-anime thing of conflating all human passion (a very broad thing) with passion specifically for this medium (a very narrow thing). You could point to other missteps it’s made along the way (most of which I’ve covered in previous editions of this very column), you could single out how, in the end, its big fascistic villain is revealed as little more than the cosplaying puppet of an even bigger, offscreen fascistic villain who we don’t really get to meaningfully meet at any point.

But the thing is this; I am an anime critic. Emphasis on the first word, not the second. If an anime is mostly about how fucking awesome anime is, I’m going to at least kinda like it unless it’s truly terrible. And Rumble Garanndoll has the appropriate amount of audacity to, say, cap its final arc with the villains attempting to drop the Comiket Center onto Akihabara like a bomb. Even if I didn’t like the series, I’d respect its punch.

But I do like it! Flaws and all, it’s hard to find major fault with something this damn fun. Our main arc here concludes with Hosomichi finding that even if he can’t feel as strongly for the art itself as other people do, he can feel for those people. That’s a surprisingly mature conclusion for something like this to reach! And that’s not all; we get a lot of good small moments over these last three episodes. Stuff like Hosomichi’s ringtone turning out to be a crucial plot element, and a small arc between Commander Balzac and Mimi (the scientist lady). There’s even a few oddly poignant moments. Like here where she assures Balzac that their own sacrifices–and the mistakes they made during them–weren’t for nothing.

Or here, at the very end of the series, where Akatsuki is astonished to learn that many of the resistance members weren’t even Japanese. Implicitly, a gesture of Garanndoll reaching out to its overseas audience as Akatsuki visibly begins to question the ideas he’s been fighting for this entire time. (In the process, supporting character Ukai is revealed to be American.)

It’s all just very good-natured and fun. There are criticisms one could make of this last arc, especially on the production side (there are a few downright sloppy action sequences here mixed in with the better ones), but why? Rumble Garanndoll set out not to imitate the great anime of the past, but to become one itself. I’m not sure if it quite hit “great,” but it’s certainly a worthy show, and I hope it picks up a following. It deserves one.

And yeah, for the record, I’d watch a second season of this, too. (Especially since the last episode raises as many questions as it answers!) I’m glad this was the last anime from 2021 I finished; I think Rumble Garanndoll‘s attitude is a good one to bring into the new year.

Elsewhere on MPA

The Five Most Magical Anime of 2021

This is outside my usual window for mentioning an article on the subsequent Frontline Report, but I worked really hard on this, and I want as many people to read it as possible. So please give it a look if you haven’t!

Seasonal Impressions: What is THE MISSING 8?

If you want to get very picky, you could argue that the season’s already begun. The Missing 8‘s first two episodes dropped just after Christmas, and I honestly am still just in awe that the show exists. It’s not a TV series, it’s a semi-independent web short thing that is only actually animated some of the time, but it’s worth checking out just for how odd it is.

And that’s about all for our first week of 2022. If you’re finding the year’s start a little thin, I wouldn’t worry. We’ve got quite the week ahead of us with a good number of premieres piled up already. (I’ll probably be covering about one per day, once they start dropping.) I should also quickly mention Ousama Ranking; yes, it will be returning to this column, probably before too long. It’s a great series and I intend to follow it ’til its end. I’m only not counting it as a leftover from 2021 because, well, I tend to categorize anime by the year they end in rather than the year they begin in. A personal preference, I suppose.

What was your last anime of 2021? Do you have any plans for your first of 2022? Let me know in the comments or on Twitter, I always look forward to hearing from you, anime fans!

Wanna 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 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.

Posted on in anime, Seasonal Impression Roundups

Seasonal First Impressions: What is THE MISSING 8?

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.

A comet streaks the sky above a dying planet. That is the central image that closes out the first episode of The Missing 8, one of two currently released. It’s a striking image, and a fitting symbol for one of the most mysterious anime premieres in recent memory.

The natural question is very simple. What is this?

The Missing 8 premiered on the Youtube channel FUZI with very little fanfare on December 28th, dropping its first episode several days after Christmas in the pre-New Year winter dead zone. I can find just a single announcement–a teaser trailer from earlier in December–indicating that anyone outside of the animators and voice actors involved in the production had any idea this thing was going to come out.* Allegedly, it’s a collaboration between (or lead by?) animator Naoki Yoshibe and some amount of Wit Studio personnel, at least if Anime News Network is to be believed. Beyond that, there is basically no information on the English internet about this thing. We’re flying blind.

In the absence of the usual “you may know Director So-and-so from The Such-and-such Project” spiel, I am thus left with the task of describing what the show actually consists of. On a basic plot and setting level, that’s confounded somewhat by the fact that the subtitles on this thing are a bit stiff. But the gist is this; somewhere, either our own world in the far future or on another planet, a group of people with the power to transform others of their kind into any object they can conceive of defend their city against antagonists of some sort known as the Dragonewt.

Two of these people; Poppy and Punk (the former of whom loves to refer to herself in the third person) have a brief falling out in the first episode, after a scuffle with the Dragonewt goes wrong. Further spurned on by Poppy claiming to experience dreams. Something she’s read about before in the mysterious tome known as The Lux Code, but which Punk has (apparently) never had. They make up by episode’s end after Punk pays a visit to his mother(?), a blindfolded woman who is apparently the only real human among the group.

If this all seems a bit esoteric in the retelling, it’s doubly so firsthand. What I’ve danced around mentioning until now is that calling The Missing 8 a “seasonal anime” is admittedly rather misleading. I’m filing it into the coming Winter 2022 season, mostly for my own recordkeeping purposes. But this is a short-form project being uploaded to Youtube. Arguably calling it an “anime” at all is misleading, given that only select cuts of it are actually animated in any major way, with the rest being more akin to the (somewhat obscure over here in the good ol’ Anglosphere) medium of the picture drama, a cousin to TV anime proper and a regular fixture on Blu-Ray extras and the like. I am nonetheless going to continue calling it a seasonal anime, for the aforementioned recordkeeping purposes and because when it is animated it looks quite nice, respectively. Despite the general opacity, there’s a lot to love here; cool character designs and a surprisingly hard soundtrack chief among them.

I will not spoil the second episode, as is my general policy with these writeups. But what I will say is that the comet the first episode closes on turns out to have some intriguing implications for the little world that Pop and Punk inhabit, and have grown, it seems, so used to. This is a fascinating little series, and even if it’s not technically in the same format as much of what I cover here, it certainly deserves to be taken on its own terms. My hope is that this little article will help a few more people do that.

I’ll see you all come the new year for the start of the “proper” season. Until then, consider checking this out.

Grade: B+
The Takeaway: The Missing 8’s two episodes are so brief that you have very little reason to at least watch the first of them, unless you just hate the format or cool character designs or something.

*Despite my mild bafflement, this is a format shows that receive an official translation sometimes air in. Just this past season Heike Monogatari aired online before eventually hitting TV. Longer ago, obscure Studio TRIGGER projects Ninja Slayer From Animation and Turning Girls premiered online as well, and the latter even also dropped on a random Youtube channel like The Missing 8 did. I can safely say that The Missing 8 is better than Turning Girls, though. Also: in this specific case, Missing 8‘s characters appear to originate from a series of music videos that Fuzi has done. Not that being based on music video characters is unique among anime properties.

Wanna 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 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.

Posted on in anime, Let's Watch

Let’s Watch TAKT OP.DESTINY: Episode 12 (Finale!)

Let’s Watch is a weekly recap column where I follow an anime for the course of its entire runtime. Expect spoilers!

Well, here we are, anime fans. Twelve weeks later and takt op.Destiny is over. Does it stick the landing? Eh, yes and no. “Takt -Hope-” is not one of the show’s strongest episodes. It does a lot right too, mind you, but some aspects can’t help but feel a little cheap. But let’s not put the cart before the horse, we’ll start with what it does well.

On one level if no others, takt op‘s final episode stands tall with its best moments. The fights here are absolutely gorgeous, with Destiny’s duel with Orpheus being among the show’s best. The episode cuts to and away from this fight several times, but it reaches its inarguable climax when Destiny ditches her gun-sword and the two fight hand to hand.

If you know, you know.

We also get a (very brief) look at Sagan’s past here. The actual flashback is, we’ll say functional, but its conclusion, where he stands shellshocked at a world ravaged by the D2s only to suddenly step on a toy piano in the ruins of a city is solidly done. Sagan didn’t need a terribly deep motivation and I’m not sure the attempt to give him one here entirely works, but it does add a bit of depth to a villain who’s otherwise been pretty cartoonish. And in one particular way, it notably sharpens his character.

Back in the present, Sagan and Takt’s final confrontation opens with the former “explains” that sacrifice is both necessary and beautiful. His plan, thus, is to gather all of the D2s in New York, and then destroy the entire continent to wipe them out entirely. His failure, as was the case two episodes ago, is to understand that the sacrifices made by Takt’s father or by Lenny (both of whom he cites), are worthy of admiration not because of the death involved, but because of their love for others. Something Sagan clearly does not have, at least not anymore. In the end, Takt gives the man’s pontificating the respect it deserves. Which is to say, none.

So how does this all end? With a beautiful whimper; Takt himself puts Sagan out of his misery. There is no final fight between the Conductors, Sagan is literally impaled on a crystal by the time Takt reaches him, and seems to be dying already. Even if he were able to put up a fight, Takt’s brief, impassioned speech on how the world is worth fighting for on the basis that it contains music alone would’ve knocked the will to out of him. Sagan, in a very real way, is defeated on two separate fronts before Takt even shows up.

The ringer they’ve been through knocks the both of them unconscious, and Destiny vanishes not long after…until the post-credits sequence, of course. Which implies that she somehow lives on within Anna, who has become a Conductor as well.

Right then.

Remember in the first piece I wrote on this series when I said how glad I was that this series didn’t have a harem setup? Turns out it actually kind of did, except it has made the puzzling decision to merge both (or all three, if you count Cosette and Destiny separately) girls who are into our protagonist into one. It is, frankly, a strange and somewhat unwelcome coda to an otherwise pretty excellent series, and I don’t doubt many folks are going to take it harder than I have. It may make more sense going into the mobile game, which serves as a sequel to the series, but as the final act of a self-contained piece of art, it is a slight bit of a letdown.

Mostly I just never really bought that Anna was into Takt that way? For ten of the show’s episodes, she seems to treat him more like a younger brother, and the abrupt swerve into a possible second love interest in its final two feels like course correction, as though someone forgot they were supposed to be writing her that way all along. (And given that Anna seems to be a fair bit older than Takt it’s also a touch skeevy, although that might just be age not coming across well in the character designs.)

But, eh, it doesn’t have a literally perfect finale. Most anime don’t get that lucky. Overall, takt op.Destiny was a lovely little show, and I’m happy to have watched it. My most cherished memories of it will likely remain tied to its earlier episodes and to Lenny’s heroic exit in episode 10, but I do not in any way think this was a bad episode. As an end to the series it’s more functional than stellar, but even that value judgment edges closer to dismissing the excellent animation on display here more than I’d like.

So; takt op.Destiny, an action romance road trip thing filled with color and wonder that doesn’t quite stick the landing. There are far worse things to be. Until your next performance, maestro.

So, you’ve heard what I think, but I want to hear your thoughts as well. What did you think of the ending, if anything? What are your overall thoughts on the series? Would you watch a second season if one were announced? Do you plan to check out the mobile game that the show serves in part as an advertisement for? (I’m thinking about it, myself.) Feel free to drop me a comment here or over on Twitter, I’d love to hear your thoughts.

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