Let’s Watch is a weekly recap column where I follow an anime for the course of its entire runtime. Expect spoilers!
Today, in its cour finale, Spy x Family circles back on its core strengths, those things that make it good in the first place. To wit; the series is an action comedy. There’s a lot of both in ” “. What more do you need?
Well, I don’t know about any of us, but Loid “Twilight” Forger really seems like he could use a few vacation days.
The opening minutes of this episode establish that, on top of the ongoing Operation Strix, Twilight has been picking up extra missions by the armful. (He blames a staff squeeze, and I see no reason to question his expertise.) He’s been getting home late often enough that the apartment complex’s local hens have started to notice, and some of the women in question even wonder aloud if he’s cheating on Yor. (He would never, and I’m vaguely offended at the notion.)
Determined to keep up the appearance of the Forgers being a normal family, Loid insists on taking them out for a weekend trip, suggesting the local aquarium. This proves to be a problem for two reasons. One; some of those local gossipy housewives are also at the aquarium. Two; Twilight’s agency happens to foist another mission on him as he enters the building, to retrieve a film roll smuggled into the country via penguin.
Things unfold as you might expect; Loid has to go undercover as a penguin handler in order to get close to That Specific Penguin, and in the process completely shows up the lead aquarist. He fights an enemy agent, who also wants to get his hands on that bird’s precious info. Said agent “kidnaps” Anya—by which I here mean that Anya clings to his shirt and shouts “I’m being kidnapped!”—and the predictable result is him getting his shit kicked in by Yor. Loid wins a giant penguin plushie for Anya.
It’s a good, solid, fun end to the series’ first half. A rounding-out as it closes the first cour. There’s also a pretty excellent post-script where Anya inducts her new “secret agent”—that is, the penguin plushie—to her spy agency. AKA, her apartment.
Spy x Family will apparently return with a 13-episode second cour in the fall season. Until we rendezvous once again; be seeing you, anime fans.
You are #006!
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.
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.
Rarely do I feel the need to start an article with disclaimers, but this is one of those few cases. The RWBY phenomenon largely passed me by, in its original form as a 3DCG cartoon. I was dimly aware of the much-hyped color trailers, the fanbase the series eventually acquired and the eventual backlash to that fanbase. I was also aware, again in only a broad sense, of its status as Rooster Teeth‘s golden egg, of the deeply sad passing of original series creator Monty Oum, and in a general sense, of its history. I even personally know a number of people who are or were huge fans, including my three younger siblings (this is probably the first thing I’ve ever written that there is a non-zero chance they might stumble upon).
Nonetheless, in spite of all that, RWBY was very much something I just knew about. I never really engaged with it at all, beyond occasionally playing the fighting game BlazBlue: Cross Tag Battle, in which some of RWBY‘s characters appear. (My younger brother bought it for our then fairly new PlayStation 4.) So, when I write about Ice Queendom today, its curious spinoff / reboot / reinterpretation / something at the hands of Studio Shaft, I write about it as a more or less total outsider. I am judging it largely on its own merits as an action anime, not in terms of how faithful it is or isn’t to the original story, which I’m largely not familiar with, or how well it executes some abstract “vision” for the franchise. (Every long-running franchise has such a thing, an ideal, imaginary form that only exists in the minds of individual creators and fans. Rarely is discussing them productive for anyone.)
To me, Ice Queendom is primarily interesting because of that connection to Shaft. As a studio, it’s hard to argue that Shaft aren’t noticeably past their prime, with their biggest impact on the world of anime—the original Puella Magi Madoka Magica—over a decade in the rearview at this point. But that doesn’t mean they can’t still make good things, and they have recently, including both Madoka’s own spinoff Magia Record and another battle girl anime, Assault Lily Bouquet. There’s some pedigree here, and while I’m only broadly familiar with the man’s work, industry lifer Toshimasa Suzuki seems like a solid choice to direct such a thing, too.
But perhaps predictably, it’s more complicated than that. Through a morass of wonky art, confusing pacing, and at least one hackneyed political allegory, RWBY: Ice Queendom‘s first episode(s?) adds up to perhaps the year’s most confounding premiere. Given that 2022 has given us sheer WTF bombs like Estab-Life and Birdie Wing, that’s pretty impressive in its own way, and not all of the surprises here are bad. But suffice it to say, I think you’d have to be a fairly particular sort of person to want to watch this. Even its format is somewhat screwy; Crunchyroll lists the single-video premiere as “episodes 1-3.” God knows what’s going on there.
But upon starting the episode, what struck me first were the character designs. I’ve never seen the original RWBY, but I have seen screenshots and gifs of it—I had a tumblr in the early 2010s, it was practically omnipresent—and while it never struck me as a visual buffet or anything, it at least looked distinct. The same isn’t really true here, with all four of the main heroines being squashed into a frankly rather generic-looking visual mold that seems suited for an anime much less ambitious than this. Over the course of the hour-long premiere special, I got used to it, but it took a while, which is not a great sign. (Also, in an attempt to emphasize their lips, all of the female characters are given what ends up looking a lot like lip gloss. This is a visual trope that bugs the ever-loving fuck out of me.) Occasionally they’re drawn a bit differently (presumably the result of different boarders or even different animators) and look a bit better, but it’s still going to be an adjustment not just for returning fans but for anyone who even vaguely knows what the original series looked like.
Some characters take to it better than others. I like how Blake looks, in particular.
In general, there is a distinct feeling of visual cheapness throughout fairly large chunks of this premiere. The production bubble hasn’t been kind to anyone, and this would not be the first time a Shaft production took a noticeable hit because of it. But whereas Magia Record could get away with lacking polish to some extent by leaning into its abstractness, Ice Queendom mostly does not have that option. The fantasy world here is portrayed mostly in earthen tones, both literally and thematically, and it suffers noticeably from the lacking tactility and spatial definition.
This doesn’t mean there are no visual merits; this episode is pretty good at fun action sequences, definitely. There’s some good directorial work, too, with enough clever uses of manga-style paneling that it might eventually turn into something of a signature piece of visual work for the series. But really, if you’re just here for Sakuga™, there are a couple of real highlights. And in general, the issue is not the lack of quality, it’s the lack of consistency. Some scenes are excellent, and a few even achieve a somewhat surreal, spacey vibe that might dimly remind viewers of certain other Shaft shows, but others are just terrible (there is a very blatant instance of an unfinished animation being looped several times in a row in part 3, for a premiere, that’s a bad sign), and still others float somewhere in-between.
With its production a distinctly up and down affair, that leaves the story to carry the rest of the weight. But, even after having seen the entire premiere, a lot about the world of RWBY remains rather obscure to me. It’s possible this is on purpose, but it might also be semi-by-design, a case of trying to appeal to new arrivals and old fans simultaneously but falling between two stools in the process. (See also; that Pokémon movie I reviewed a few months ago.)
As far as I can tell, RWBY’s setting is defined by the presence of monsters called Grimms, which lack “Aura”—life force, basically—and turn into “Dust” when killed. Dust, as far as I can tell, can be broadly analogued to souls from Dark Souls. It has power of its own, and also seems to be used as a currency.
Grimms are fought by Hunters, which all four of our heroines want to become for various reasons. These are Ruby Rose (Saori Hayami), the bubbly title lead, her doting older sister Yang Xiao Long (Ami Koshimizu), the aloof, proud heiress Weiss Schnee (Youko Hikasa), and Blake Belladonna (Yuu Shimamura), who is a catgirl.
For the most part, they seem like rather simple characters with simple motivations, although Ruby is the only person we really get the full story of here, in that she wants to follow in her late mother’s footsteps as a huntress. Not for nothing is Ruby also the character who works best here, she’s cute as a button but also has a huge transforming scythe-gun thing. It’s hard to go wrong with that.
There are also many other characters introduced here. North of a dozen, if I had to take a guess. We learn rather little about most of them, this early on, although a small handful like honors student / cereal box model (really) Pyrrha Nikos (Megumi Toyoguchi) and the adorably terrifying Penny (Megumi Han) manage to make a decent impact in their relatively brief screentime regardless.
The actual plot? Our girls enroll at an academy for Hunters. I don’t want to say that “Harry Potter packing heat” is the general vibe here, but in spots it kind of is. Much of the specifics of this become the victim of the premiere’s downright bizarre pacing.
There is a pretty incredible moment where, because of a news story, three of our four heroines are discussing how corrupt one “Schnee Corporation” is, only for Weiss, who is the heiress of said company, to introduce herself to the group by overhearing it and taking offense. Was she just standing around eavesdropping? Is this bit of hilarious coincidence from the original show? I honestly have no idea. I’m not entirely sure it’s meant to be as funny as I found it.
It doesn’t really matter, because not long after that scene, our characters—plus a second team of hopefuls—are flung into a forest to take their life or death entrance exam. Here, the show comes to life with properly exciting action sequences and just enough forward plot motion to be compelling. Then, when our heroines pass their exam and are formally grouped together as “Team RWBY”—all of the teams have fun, pronounceable acronyms for names, I suppose—it immediately becomes boring again, focusing on the petty and uninteresting conflict between Weiss and Ruby or other similarly dull character interactions that just don’t mean much of anything because we haven’t gotten the proper time to know these girls, yet. Ice Queendom is frustrating in this way; at several points during the premiere, I was bored to tears, only for it to burst with exciting and fluid visuals or an interesting story tidbit once again, and then again promptly fall back asleep a few minutes later.
It’s actually Blake Belladonna who gets the shortest end of the writing stick, at least so far. Blake has the misfortune of being Team RWBY’s only Faunus—that is to say, a kemonomimi person—and consequently, she is the conduit for this episode’s utterly toothless gesturing toward political commentary. Over the course of the third part of the premiere, she and Weiss get into a big argument about the (pick one) terrorist group / brave freedom fighters / people just doing their best White Fang, who Weiss loathes because they’ve killed people she personally knows, and which Blake used to be a part of.
There is a frankly incredible scene where Blake pulls off her bow only to reveal that she has cat ears that look exactly the same as her bow underneath it. It is incredible in every sense of that word.
There are, I’m sure, ways to handle this that are not completely terrible, but you won’t find them here. Blake and Weiss are treated as simply having a misunderstanding, and Weiss eventually kinda-sorta reconciles with Blake after only a few real-world minutes of self-reflection. Nothing is actually resolved, and Weiss apparent actual bigotry toward Faunus (yes, an anime girl who hates catgirls. Unreal.) is simply brushed aside. (And of course, despite the weird racism angle here, it will not shock you that at no point during the series so far has an actual POC shown up in a noteworthy role, which is just inexcusable.)
On the whole, Ice Queendom is a mess, really. Which is a shame, because there is some good stuff in here. In addition to the visual highlights there’s a neat plot—unresolved here, presumably it’ll be concluded in the next proper episode—where a Grimm that can imitate humans and trap them in mental prisons based on their own insecurities shows up. It’s defeated temporarily by a mysterious character who calls herself a “nightmare hunter.” Her exorcism method involves tying people up with weird purple string.
Bondage Joke.
It’s weird, it’s cool, and it points a way forward for Ice Queendom in general. It’s not impossible that the series will eventually find its legs. And I hope it does, both because I will probably continue watching it somewhat in spite of my own good judgment (I will remind longtime readers that I’m one of the few Blue Reflection Ray apologists, bad production has never scared me off), and because the people who have been ride-or-die for RWBY for nearly ten years deserve a good show, not something haphazard and half-assed.
The Takeaway: If you can stomach the bizarre plotting and wonky production to get to the standout action sequences and some of the weirder stuff, this might be worth checking out. If you’re a lifelong RWBY fan, you’re probably already watching it. For anyone else? I think this is probably a skip, especially with more promising-looking battle girl anime (eg. Lycoris Recoil) on the immediate horizon.
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.
Let’s Watch is a weekly recap column where I follow an anime for the course of its entire runtime. Expect spoilers!
Heart to Heart! — Let your burning love reach everyone!
– Hoshin Culture Festival Motto
How do you open the two-part finale to your long-running love story? How about your heroine turning to stone and shattering? That’s the visual that Kaguya-sama: Love is War! opens on as its third season draws to a close; girl to granite to rubble. Why? Because Miyuki Shirogane is going to Stanford, and Kaguya Shinomiya knows she can’t stop him. And moreover, knows she shouldn’t.
It’s a visual metaphor, obviously; Kaguya-sama has loved those since it started and it certainly isn’t going to stop using them now. But, the literalization of the sentence “she was shattered by the revelation” gives you a pretty good notion of what we’re all in for here. If Love is War, this is the conflict’s turning point, where the generals and foot soldiers alike earn their medals.
Spare a thought for Hayasaka, who has been mostly-unwillingly playing both roles for ages now, and is who Kaguya goes to for comfort and advice as her carefully-laid plans for a full year of dating fall to pieces. Shirogane isn’t just going to Stanford, he’s graduating a year early to account for cross-Pacific grade differences. For us, it’s an elaboration as to why he’s been acting like time is running out, if it weren’t already obvious. For Kaguya, it’s a sledgehammer to the face. Love is a battlefield, and she’s been ambushed.
Hayasaka, again in her role as a beleaguered advisor, needles her mistress. If the day has to be today, then the confession of feelings—that old Japanese pop media trope so ingrained into the anime landscape that it’s practically part of the scenery—has to be perfect. Kaguya tries different phrasings, Hayasaka shoots almost all of them down. It’s amusing, yes. Kaguya-sama fully empties its bag of visual tricks here; starting with cheerleader-based how-to-confess diagrams and references to the ancient “yukkuri shitte ne” meme.
But the real emotional heft obviously comes when Kaguya-sama reigns it back in. As Hayasaka and Kaguya talk, the room is bathed in a scarlet sunset, and the core point the maid makes is simple; there aren’t any easy outs. Kaguya just has to tell the president how she feels about him somehow. There can be nothing else.
There is just one problem; in order to confess to the president, Kaguya has to find him, first.
In the meantime, theirs is not the only story freefalling through youthful confusion. As she searches high and low for Shirogane, Kaguya catches sight of Ishigami and Tsubame, which serves as a crossfade over to their side of the cultural festival.
Ishigami remains as oblivious-self-conscious as ever, paranoid about coming across as a “creep” for having a command of flower symbology while at the same time being still wholly unaware that what he intended as a simple kind gesture has been taken by Tsubame—and indeed the whole student body—as a declaration of romantic love. Here, Tsubame begs his patience, but because he doesn’t really know what she’s talking about, things get muddled; intentions swept off the ground in the December breeze, and the half-punchline that is Ishigami’s continued unawareness can only do so much to pop the winter evening ambiance. Unintentionally, Ishigami gives Tsubame until March, when the cherry tree they’re standing under blooms, to truly answer his feelings. The gymnast is surprised by his mental fortitude, and the whole sequence is funny, but also very sweet in its own way.
It’s only after the two part that Ishigami gets some sense of what he may have actually done. A festival play recounts the legend that gives the culture festival its heart motif, and our boy comes within striking distance of figuring out that giving hearts out is an implied romantic gesture. Still, the second Tsubame herself takes stage in the play, all rational thought goes out the window for Ishigami, and he promptly stops thinking about it.
But, even if things between them don’t work out, one gets the sense they’ll both be fine in their own way.
Back at our main story, though, Kaguya is lost in her own little world as she prepares to light the culture festival bonfire via flaming arrow. She manages an impressively skippy internal monologue the entire time, as We Want to Talk About Kaguya! leads Karen and Erika cameo off to the side of the scene.
I wonder if Aoi Koga gets paid by the word.
Karen will write a doujin about this later.
But the bonfire-lighting itself is swept aside as the mysterious “phantom thief Arsene” makes his presence known; the papier-mâché dragon jewel is gone, and the thief’s calling cards float in the air en-masse as a shadowy silhouette cuts a looming figure against the night sky.
Of course, no one but us knows that Shirogane is behind all this just yet. Notably, Fujiwara tasks herself with solving the mystery, only for her grandiloquent proclamations of her own genius to dissolve into a puddle as it becomes obvious that most of the ‘clues’ she’s found are either her own inventions or deliberately planted to throw her off. This is Kaguya’s puzzle to solve, and there’s only one actual hint.
Karen, in what is to my recollection her single most substantial contribution to Kaguya-sama‘s story, points out that the small calling cards are made of flame-resistant paper. This sets Kaguya’s own mental wheels a-turning, because that kind of care and preparedness reminds her of a certain someone, and it does not take long for the rest of the game to click into place.
And to give us all just the slightest airbrake of comedy before rocketing into its last half hour, Kaguya-sama then pulls out the one-two punch of “Kaguya dropped the plastic heart she was going to give Shirogane” and “Kaguya does not know how coffee machines work.”
Very good, Miss Shinomiya.
Shirogane, meanwhile, is starting to get flustered. The usual pattern of his where he does something extremely teenager only to cringe himself half to death the following day beginning to kick in as the second day of the culture festival ends. The narrator puts it best; the final battle of this war of love is to be a fistfight.
Kaguya-sama: Love is War!‘s season finale is a fucking hurricane of romantic imagery.
Shirogane’s plan is grandiose, ridiculous, ostentatious, and the sort of thing that only a heartsick teenage boy could dream up. It leans hard on narrative convenience—the strings he’d have to pull make no real sense, and the post-hoc explanations given here don’t really either—and hard on pre-built character sympathy. If someone did this kind of thing in real life and you read about it in the news, they’d be a horrible creep and you’d hate them. This is a “proposing on the Jumbotron” gesture blown up to ridiculous fantasy proportions.
But that of course is part of the beauty of fiction. Kaguya and Shirogane love each other very much; we know this, and have known this. It’s been obvious to everyone, including much of the show’s own cast, for, at this point, real-world years. Anything that moves the needle at all is good. But this? This is insanity. Beautiful, wonderful, romantic insanity. If love is a sickness, Shirogane’s case is terminal.
He uses some mechanical doohickey to pop a massive balloon, sending scores of heart balloons out into the air above the festival, held aloft by the heat from the bonfire, the December night breeze, and the fact that anime is the highest form of art. Shirogane’s winding internal monologue about how he really wants Kaguya to confess first because he needs to feel equal to her only half makes sense, but that doesn’t really matter. None of the obvious little holes in Shirogane’s plan really matter. Do you see how hard Kaguya’s blushing? I got contact flutters from watching this. Frankly, I’m a little envious.
It would be one thing if it stopped there, but it does not.
This isn’t usually what one means when they say “popping the question,” but it certainly feels comparable.
Really stop for a second and think about what he’s asking there. Think about these two characters and their respective situations, think about the enormity of what he’s asking her to do. Even on its own, studying abroad is a huge undertaking. Studying abroad at Stanford University is quite another level beyond that. Doing so in Kaguya’s specific situation is yet another step beyond that. This is an absurd ask. Kaguya says as much.
She says yes anyway. An implicit fuck-it-all to her own upbringing and, really, her entire life up to this point. She doesn’t even really hesitate. She’s giddy, if anything.
They kiss. Obviously, they kiss. On top of a clocktower, hearts surrounding them in the air.
Elsewhere on the festival grounds, Hayasaka blushes like crazy once she realizes what’s going on, and Miko Iino, alone on patrol, is the only one not present at the bonfire. Ishigami brings her a recording—and a plastic heart trinket, for the lost and found—a much more subtly sweet moment that contrasts nicely with the star-scraping, wild gesture that Shirogane’s just pulled off. Could there be something between those two someday? I don’t think it’s impossible. (It will certainly be funny if Ishigami, the character that Kaguya-sama‘s least pleasant fans attach themselves to out of a misunderstanding of his character, ends up having to choose between two women who are into him, but let’s not get ahead of ourselves.)
And just like that, the festival switches off like a lightswitch, and we cut to the morning after. There is a postscript of sorts here; it’s very funny, and sweet in its own way, featuring a rare appearance from Kaguya’s childish “Kaguya-chan” personality. But with all I’ve said here, recapping that bit as well would feel a little pointless. It made me cackle out loud at one point, so you can consider that an endorsement.
It’s a valid question to ask; where, if anywhere, does Kaguya-sama: Love is War! go from here?
Well, not long after the episode aired in Japan, we got an answer of sorts. Whether that’s another season being announced, an OVA, a film, no one really knows yet. But Kaguya and Shirogane’s story doesn’t end here, and that’s the important part. I will spoil nothing, but there is much of the manga left to cover, so I am very curious as to what’s being planned. Kaguya-sama will appear here on Magic Planet Anime again, that much is almost a certainty.
But for now, the romantic rollercoaster ride has come to an end. Until next time, Kaguya fans.
Results for Today’s Battle: Mutual Victory
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.
Summer is upon us, anime fans, and with the changing of literal seasons comes also the changing of anime seasons.
I think most of you know the drill by now, but just in case you don’t, here’s how this works. You go to this survey, you check all the boxes for shows you’d be interested in me doing one of my weekly Let’s Watch columns on (there’s no limit. Hell, you could check all of them if you wanted to, as pointless as that would be), and that’s basically it.
I’ve changed the way the list is organized, somewhat. This time around, it simply uses Anichart.net’s order, and I’ve put in every eligible series under both its English-market title and the Romaji title. (In some cases, these are one in the same, those would be the shows with only one title listed.) I don’t use unofficial synonyms. So, for example; Call of the Night is in there both under that title and under the Romaji version of its JP market title, Yofukashi no Uta, but it’s not there under the little-used manga scanlation title Night Owl Song.
As with last season, you’ll note there are a few notable omissions. This is for one of several reasons:
It’s a sequel to something I haven’t seen, or I otherwise don’t have necessary pre-existing narrative context.
It’s in “streaming jail”, making covering it weekly impractical or impossible.
Or I’m planning to cover it anyway. (Although that doesn’t describe anything
I’m not sure how many, exactly, Let’s Watch columns I’ll be picking up this season. There have been some recent structural changes on MPA (I’m sure you’ve noticed, say, the One Piece Every Day project), but I will certainly pick up at least one community pick. This past season I ended up covering the tied-for-third-place Healer Girl as well as the outright winner Spy x Family, so don’t be afraid to punch in votes for obscure stuff even if you don’t think it’ll win. You never know.
I look forward to seeing your responses, 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 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.
But one thing I’ve not discussed is the second, other anime hidden in plain sight in Love is War! I am talking, of course, about the combined storyline presented by the Season 1 and Season 3 EDs.
Unique to the anime, and with no real equivalent anywhere in the manga, these two EDs tell a wordless, fantastical otherworld version of Love is War!‘s central storyline, blown up to epic fantasy proportions despite their limited runtime. They cross Love is War!’s basic ideas with a setting that begins at Studio Ghibli and ends somewhere out near Starship Trooper. It’s a strange, singular thing, and I love that it exists.
Metatextually, they are presented as a pair of dreams. One had by Kaguya in the student council room as she dozes off after a day of hard work, and the other had by Miyuki in what appears to be the cafe` from season 2.
In this version of the story., Miyuki Shirogane is no student, he’s a plane mechanic. And Kaguya’s status as a “princess” appears to be far more literal, with all that implies. She’s also not human, possibly alluding to her namesake‘s nature as a princess from the Moon. By their nature, neither short has a terribly complex story. Indeed, the lack of any dialogue makes the specific events depicted in each ambiguous to some degree, but there’s no denying that they are telling a story, and that they do fit together.
Like her mundane counterpart, otherworld Kaguya appears to have her heart shut off from the world, and her only real companion is her maid, Hayasaka.
But it seems like some version of the student council did exist here at one point. A brief flash of a framed picture is all we get, but it’s enough to make the conclusion that Kaguya had bonded with these people—just like she did in the real show—only to have them taken away from her.
This frames what follows in a fascinating way; something like a mutual plan, by both this “aviation club” and Kaguya and Hayasaka themselves (the latter takes up a rifle here and looks perfectly at home holding it.) Kaguya escapes from the massive zeppelin all of her lonely isolation shots took place in, and literally sprouts fucking angel wings as she flees. In the pivotal, romantic clincher, she grabs on to Miyuki’s hand as he flies past in a biplane.
Ishigami and Chika are there, too, to give their approval. Kaguya is sometimes hard on these two, especially Chika, so it can be nice to have even small reminders that, yes, she really does care about them a lot.
And the short ends on a shot of Kaguya waking up in the council room, giving her friends a warm smile.
The second ED—again, from the third season. The second season’s ED was nice in its own way, but doesn’t connect to this story—is stranger and darker. Some amount of time has clearly passed, and Kaguya, here specifically marked out as an alien, has been once again spirited away by her people. The opening shot of the ED shows her coronated with a wicked crown that seems to change her very body and soul, a blunt and evocative metaphor for her abusive upbringing from the main series, and the “Ice Kaguya” persona she once put on to escape it.
So, what choice do our heroes have? Pulp sci-fi splash screens spring to life as they spell out the operation.
Miyuki broods as he remembers those he’s met over the course of what seems to be a rather long war (more questions unanswered, there). Hayasaka, Iino, and what appears to be his own family. But when the Earthlings arrive, there’s no time to reminisce; they come up against swarms of monster bugs, lead by Kaguya herself from the chair of command.
There’s a ton of movement in this microscopic fight scene—it really is only a few seconds—bullets fly and, at one point, Chika takes a shot to the head (don’t worry, she’s fine).
Through the furor, Miyuki can only think about one other person on the battlefield. An injured Hayasaka gives him Kaguya’s hair ribbon, and he dashes forward like a madman, leaping, seeming to knock the crown off, and tying her hair back into a ponytail. The spell is broken! Mission successful.
The dream ends here, and we see the real Miyuki’s eye pop open as Kaguya gently wakes him up.
Isn’t all this just adorable? That Miyuki fantasizes about being this romantic hero archetype rescuing the princess from the enemy’s clutches? Isn’t it adorable too, that Kaguya dreams of being rescued by him, even if she does a lot of the work herself, in her own dream? There is a lot of warmth between the two even in just the short few seconds they interact with each other at the end of the second ED.
To state the obvious; I would, of course, watch or read the absolute hell out of a spinoff that elaborated upon this story. But even as successful as Kaguya is, that seems unlikely. So, it remains, just these few minutes, like tiny jewels.
In general, I’ve always believed that Kaguya is at its strongest when making bold, sweeping, romantic gestures. It is at its weakest when it attempts to delve into gender psychology and make too-broad statements about the nature of love or sex. One of the reasons that these two EDs work so well is that they’re entirely the former, distilling down all of Kaguya‘s strengths and casually eliminating all of its flaws into just a couple combined minutes of excellence. There is nothing else like it, and as I already mentioned, I’m just happy that it exists. Hopefully you are too.
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.
“These are the beautiful miracles sung by humanity.”
The first thing to know is that Healer Girl was inspired by Symphogear. Comparisons between anime rarely do either work any favors, but for Healer Girl, knowing the name of its stylistic ancestors puts some things into perspective. The Symphogear comparison is merely the most recent in a list that also includedMacross and, less centrally, G Gundam.
Ostensibly, these are strange bedfellows for what is at its heart an iyashikei series / sometimes-musical. In practice, it makes perfect sense. Like in Symphogear, the music in Healer Girl is not a background element; it’s diegetic, and the very source of the protagonists’ abilities itself. I’ve taken to calling this sort of thing the “dynamic music” genre, perhaps you have some other pet neologism. In either case, understanding that the music is not just a plot element but what the entire work is built around is key to understanding Healer Girl at all. It’s not a complex series, but there is stuff going on here beyond pretty songs.
Take our protagonists. Three young girls; Kana (Carin Isobe), Hibiki (Akane Kumada), and Reimi (Marina Horiuchi). For the majority of the series, they serve as interns at a clinic run by their teacher, Hibiki’s cousin Ria (Ayahi Takagaki).
A clinic, because as Healer Girl quickly establishes, in its world, the power of music is literal. Carefully-applied musical treatments can literally heal injuries, soothe sickness away entirely, and aid in surgery. This sort of there-is-power-in-the-song thing is something idol anime have been flirting with for years but never really commit to. (A personal frustration of mine.) Part of me enjoys Healer Girl just because it has the stones to actually dive into this idea. At twelve episodes, it doesn’t have the time to answer every question I had (I really want to know what healing music looks like around the world, but the show sadly doesn’t really go into it), but maybe it doesn’t need to.
From that central premise, Healer Girl builds a few strong, simple metaphors. Healing music as art is the easiest to understand, and effectively renders the series as a defense of itself. Taken through this lens, the anime is a series of iterative exercises; how much can art really help with? In the first episode, Kana sings a song to a boy who’s scraped his knee to take the pain away. Just three episodes later, the girls assist in a surgery where someone nearly dies on an operating table, and they face the truly harrowing experience of possibly failing to help someone. Much like conventional medicine, healing music definitely has its limits, but also like medicine, it certainly helps. Is this Healer Girl‘s argument, that art can heal the world, if not by itself, at least in a supporting role? It’s a strong reading, and I do think that’s at least partly what the series is going for.
Consider also the show’s actual music. A lot of people—including myself—initially assumed Healer Girl was going to be an idol series, and it is true that there is an associated idol unit, the Healer Girls themselves. But, if we consider it a part of this idol anime lineage, it’s a highly unconventional one, at least for 2022. In style, the Healer Girls are a lot closer to forgotten ’90s American soft-pop sensation Wilson-Phillips than anything presented in, say, its seasonal contemporary Nijigasaki High School Idol Club. More to the point is the presentation; the titular healer girls don’t really dance, and their songs are not performances. They’re tools. And learning how to use those tools forms the show’s other main theme; the passing of knowledge and love from one generation to the next.
Much is made of the girls’ relationship with their mentor Ria, a well-developed character in her own right. Reimi has a cute, one-sided crush on her, and much is made of her incredible skills. (Which we finally get to see in action in episode 9.) Over the course of the series, Ria guides the girls through simply being her pupils toward being healers in their own right. In the show’s finale, it implies via paralleling that Kana may herself one day take students of her own. It’s rare to see teaching and imparting wisdom treated as something beautiful and graceful, but that just makes appreciating it when a show can properly pull it off all the more important.
And look, all this writing about what the show means, and I’ve barely told you anything about why you might want to watch it! The simple truth is that, like most of Studio 3Hz‘s productions, the show is just damn good-looking. It’s beautiful, colorful, wonderfully vibrant, almost a living thing itself, in a way that is truly rare and all too easy to take for granted. That vibrancy makes Healer Girl something to be treasured. Naturally, it translates to the soundtrack as well; Healer Girl is at most half a musical, but enough of the show is sung—including incidental dialogue, in some episodes—that if you enjoy that medium, you’ll like Healer Girl as well.
And on top of that, it’s simply fun to watch. Rarely are anime fans starving for some classic slice-of-life antics, but Healer Girl‘s are a particularly well done set thereof. The show is very funny when it sets its mind to it, and not working in that mode 100% of the time only renders it more amusing when it does.
There’s even a pastiche of an old, old slice of life trope, the obligate “high school rock band” episode—episode 7, here—that’s been sorely lacking from most modern anime for a whole generation at this point. I have to admit, seeing one in this day and age made me nostalgic, so I suppose that’s another emotion that Healer Girl can effortlessly tap into.
Because of this kaleidoscopic emotional approach, Healer Girl‘s characters feel truly alive as well, even comparatively minor ones like the girls from the rival healing clinic (of course there’s a rival healing clinic), Sonia (Chihaya Yoshitake) and Shinobu (Miyu Takagi).
And, of course, we should discuss Healer Girl‘s visual ace in the hole. The girls don’t merely sing; the world changes around them as they do, a literalized, visualized version of the consensus fantasy-reality created by the most powerful music here in the real world. But in Healer Girl‘s universe, it can change the world in a truly direct and immediate way, and these bubbles of magic are called image songs. Episode 9 is the best showcase of them, where we see Ria greatly aid a surgery with hers; she influences literal events by manipulating abstract visual material within the image song. In doing so, she herself is a metaphor for the real impact of art in our own world. It’s a curious, but justified little thematic mobius strip, something that impressively never feels pretentious or self-impressed. Healer Girl knows what it’s doing, maybe that’s why there isn’t a weak episode in the whole thing.
The only real tragedy about Healer Girl is that its strongest moments are those where it instills pure awe in the audience. And that, unfortunately, is not something I’m truly able to replicate in text format. You will just have to take my word for it, that my jaw dropped more than once throughout the show, that I teared up a few times, and that several episodes—particularly episode 5 and the latter half of the finale—left me frustrated, although in a strangely positive way, over my inability to fully convey their emotional impact in mere words. You will just have to see it for yourself, and if you haven’t, I again strongly recommend that you do.
If there’s justice in the world, Healer Girl will be a watershed moment. But even if it inspires nothing, even if this artistic lineage ends here, I find it impossible to imagine that it will ever lose its potency as a work unto itself or, indeed, as a healing tool.
There is often a desire—spoken or not—in seasonal anime watching culture for something to get “another season.” Healer Girl, however, was clearly crafted with just these twelve episodes in mind. That renders the show small, certainly, but it does not rob it of its power. In a way Healer Girl is like the over-the-counter medical records mentioned in the first episode. It will soothe your sickness if you let it; simply rewind the tape and play it all back again. One more time; if you feel it, it’ll heal you.
If you’d like to read more about Healer Girl, consider checking out my Let’s Watch columns on the series.
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.
Let’s Watch is a weekly recap column where I follow an anime for the course of its entire runtime. Expect spoilers!
The time has come for measure-taking. Healer Girl ended today. I will not make a secret my feelings; I absolutely love this show. It’s a soft, glowing rainbow light that revitalizes the soul. If you don’t have the patience for unchecked fangirling, I suggest you turn back now.
A certain kind of studio hound will want to know where I rank Healer Girl among Studio 3Hz‘ other two well-known originals—Flip Flappers and Princess Principal—but in truth I find them so different that any comparison would be irrelevant. So instead, I will say this; Healer Girl, regardless of whether it’s the best or anyone’s personal favorite, is certainly the most healing and soul-soothing of the three. How appropriate, given its name.
We’ll spend much of this article talking about today’s episode, the finale, but it’s important to discuss last week’s as well (which I wasn’t able to cover on time). The gist is simple; our girls have found themselves in a rut with their C-Rank exams dangerously near on the horizon. When they try to sing, their image song breaks, and each of them is yanked out of it by a trio of biting orca-like creatures. Ria has the idea to send them to a training camp of sorts, spearheaded by Reimi’s former maid.
Over the course of the camp, they visit museums, take a pottery class, go bunging jumping, and hike in the mountains. None of it helps, because even as the diverse experiences temper and strengthen their songs, an underlying issue isn’t addressed: jealousy.
There were a few broad hints before, but episode 11 foregrounds the fact that all three of our leads are, in one way or another, jealous of each other. Once again, Ria actually notices this long beforehand. At the end of the episode, we’re given a quick peek at her notes, and they’re pretty revealing.
In a way this represents the first major interpersonal conflict these characters have ever had, but it’s entirely believable that a trio of teenagers, no matter how naturally talented, might develop inferiority complexes over that very same talent. All this leads to perhaps Healer Girl‘s single most unexpected scene; a full-on shouting match between the leads, each of them venting their jealousy. Even this, it’s to be expected, is sweet in its own way, given that the three are mostly yelling about how talented each of them thinks the other two are. (If you’re a certain sort of person, I could imagine finding this saccharine. But if you are that sort of person, I doubt you made it this far into Healer Girl unless you’re also a masochist.)
It will not surprise you to know that getting all of this out is exactly what they needed, and indeed if you read Ria’s notes up there, you’ll see that having the three of them grow closer together on their own, without her interference, was the plan all along. The camp completed; they return for exam day.
The image song, as sung during their exams, is a thing of beauty. They are more in harmony after their little fight, despite being physically apart and taking their exams in different rooms, than they were together, and the results are spectacular. Kana in particular, perhaps the one among them with the most raw talent, metamorphoses into a butterfly-winged fairy as she sings, the orca rendered nothing more than a blooming flower itself.
They all pass, because of course they do.
As the episode’s obligate heartwarming post-credits scene ends, Ria cheerily announces that all three of them are expelled. It’s a slammed door played like a punchline, but the underlying idea—that she’s taught them all she can, and they now have to stand on their own two feet—is sound. Ultimately though, any expectation that they move on permanently is to be ignored. Spoiler alert; at the end of the show they rejoin Ria’s clinic. Again as understudies, but also as proper healers in their own right. Still learning, but able to stand by themselves.
Still, episode 12 does deal with the girls out and about on their own for the first time. It splits into three parts for its first half, showing us the month-long internships that the girls enter. Reimi cuts her long blonde hair short and takes up residence at Sonia’s clinic. Hibiki interns at the newly founded audio medicine department at the hospital from episodes 4 and 9. Kana, who the episode returns the central spotlight to, interns abroad, at a hospital in what appears to be California.
This part of the episode is charming, especially in its depiction of how the girls remain in touch even when physically apart. Although Hibiki and Reimi in particular aren’t actually far from each other, and it seems like they occasionally hang out at the clinic. (Where Hibiki might still live? I’m not totally clear on this.) In what is easily the episode’s silliest scene, they embody every meaning of the term “moé blob.”
In general, episode 12 is concerned with legacy and the meaningful passage of knowledge and love from one generation to the next. Ria spends much of it with her own mentor, Sonia’s grandmother, but the real clincher takes the form of multiple callbacks to episode 1. Kana, in a land where she does not speak a lick of the local tongue, nonetheless soothes a crying, lost girl in the hospital’s lobby. Unlike her technically unauthorized use of healing from that first episode, this is exactly what she’s supposed to be doing, and it’s only through her study under Ria that she can accomplish it. Thus, here on her own, she draws on both her own life and the legacy of those who came before her. This is a difficult thematic balance to strike, but Healer Girl pulls it off.
There is an extremely funny comment made by Abigail, the woman with brown hair on the left, where she’s startled by “what Japan’s C-Ranks can do.” This would maybe come across as a little self-aggrandizing if this scene took place anywhere but the United States. As someone who lives here; yeah, that’s fair.
Later, when the threes’ internships end, Hibiki and Reimi get a cryptic email from Kana on the eve of her anticipated return to Japan. True friends and, apparently living in a world where commercial flight does not cost a small fortune, the two actually take a flight to California, where they find Kana helping out with the aftermath of a wildfire.
In any case, it’s on their return flight that Healer Girl makes this parallel between its first and final episodes most explicit. One of the passengers, a young girl, has an asthma attack. Our girls, of course, volunteer to help, directly referring back to the very incident that made Kana want to become a healer in the first place. I honestly cannot do this scene justice with words alone; the soothing song itself is one thing, but the imagery of Kana spiritually duetting with the younger incarnation of her master got to me in a way that I struggle to properly describe. The parallel invites you to imagine that the young girl they sing to might one day become a healer herself; wouldn’t that be a beautiful thing?
Amazingly, Healer Girl has another trick up its sleeve, its last, as the finale comes to a close. When the girls return home to Japan, they’re formally “given investiture” as healers (another of the series’ many strange and mystical religious parallels). And as they depart the graduating ceremony, they sing the song from the OP. The long version, with more verses.
Healer Girl—the very show itself—dissolves into magical dream sequence; their song fills the air like the light of drifting stars. Their friends and teachers come to join them. Is this all literally happening? Is it artistic license? A better question for you; who cares? In an interview, Director Yasuhiro Irie cited the Symphogear series as an influence on Healer Girl. These anime are, on many fundamental levels, very different. But they are alike in that both have a deep, intuitive understanding of the fact that with enough raw emotion, you can transmute literal events into symbols and back again.1 So the question of whether this is “really happening” is irrelevant, what it is, is Healer Girl‘s case for itself. A definitive answer to the question of whether these twelve weeks have been worth it.
During this fantastical, mesmerizing ending sequence, any lingering doubt vanishes like shadows against the morning Sun. Healer Girl takes its final showman’s bow, and it exits, as suddenly as it arrived.
If you feel it, it’ll heal you. That’s all there is to it.
Song Count: In episode 11, just one, but they sing it four times, only completing it on the fourth. In episode 12, three in total, all of which are wonderful in their own way. If you’ve liked the show’s songs and have more money than I do, consider buying the soundtrack or official vocal album.
1: Incidentally, Hibiki Tachibana would make a great healer. And the girls from this show would probably be pretty good Gear-wielders as well. There’s a free idea for the four of you who read this site but also write fanfiction.
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. A bit low on energy as I write this, so I’ll just cut right to the chase for you. That’s the important part anyway, right?
Seasonal Anime
Birdie Wing
The news felt tragic when it was handed down. “Birdie Wing will have only 13 episodes.” These days, single cour anime are by far the norm, so it wasn’t too surprising to learn that Birdie Wing would have only a single episode more than the standard twelve. Still, for a show that seemed to be pivoting into ever-more absurd iterations on its central sport, it cannot help but be the tiniest bit disappointing. Part of me wanted Birdie Wing to run for dozens and dozens of episodes just to see how out there it could get.
On the other hand, this is the proverbial fire under Birdie Wing‘s ass. This week’s episode was the eleventh, putting the series just two away from completion. Every minute counts in a single cour anime, and never more so than in its final few episodes.
The question, then, that Birdie Wing asks you as it enters its finale, is how much can you care about golf? Not how much you do care about golf, mind you. I care about the actual sport very little and I’m sure the same is true of a fair number of people who are watching it. But like anything, Birdie Wing‘s first major obstacle to overcome as a story and a piece of entertainment is to make you care about it. It has a lot of tricks up its sleeve in that regard; Eve’s rainbow bullets, its plethora of absurd courses, the ludicrously high stakes involved in many of these matches, its once-present class commentary that seems to have largely just faded into the ether, etc. But at the end of the day, a key part of forcing your suspension of disbelief is to make you care about this thing you might otherwise not give a damn about. Birdie Wing, in what I think is probably its greatest overall strength, is really good at that. This time it uses a more conventional, though no less effective approach; a compelling but brief arc for a side character.
Part of this episode stars Kinue Jinguuji (Mai Nakahara). Jinguuji is the president of Eve’s adopted high school’s golf club, and over the course of the episode she puts Eve through some pretty intense training. (Yes, this episode is a Golf Training Arc. No one should be surprised by that at this point.)
One would correctly guess, then, that she’s a strong golfer herself. Over the course of this episode, Coach Amuro sets upon her the task of “polishing” Eve, who he describes as a diamond in the rough.
But, Birdie Wing makes a key distinction here. Jinguuji is a very good golfer; she has technique and intuitive course knowledge and all the sorts of things that make one actually good at the sport both within Birdie Wing and in real life. If this were Sorairo Utility, 2022’s other anime about girls golfing, she’d be the strongest player on the course by a mile.
But this is not that particular short, and it is also not real life. Jinguuji being a very good golfer is not enough to elevate her to main character status, something she is keenly aware of.
Instead, Jinguuji falls into the old archetype of someone who is deeply passionate about something, and is even quite skilled at it, but cannot compete with natural talent. This is a character type that has recurred many times throughout the course of the medium, usually in contexts far more “obviously” dramatic than this one. But Birdie Wing playing the trope completely straight, and managing to actually do so fairly successfully, is amazing. If it winked for even a moment, the illusion would collapse in a heap.
There is a real case to be made for Birdie Wing as a truly effective piece of camp theater, and arcs like Jinguuji’s (or earlier in the show; Rose Aleone’s) are great supporting arguments. Is it actually all that funny that Kinue literally breaks down and cries during her flashback because she can’t play golf anymore?
As a non-golfer, sure, it can seem silly. But in her own mind—and that of a sufficiently attuned viewer—it’s genuinely tragic that her dreams are forever beyond her reach. The episode’s very title is “No Matter How Tall a Weed Grows, It Will Never Reach the Sun”, a hard-truth proverb that some people are simply better than others at things for reasons well beyond anyone’s control. Wanting to do something is not the same as being good at it. It’s a tough lesson, and it’s not one everyone handles with terribly much grace.
Kinue at least, has found her answer. Unable to compete in the tournament (or by the sounds of it, much of any golf, at least for now), she passes her dream on to Eve and Aoi. I will fully admit that it’s strange to say this, but, as someone for whom criticism was perhaps a third or fourth-chosen life path, I actually related to this super hard, and I think Kinue might be my favorite member of Birdie Wing‘s secondary cast. In my mind, there is validity in seeking to uplift others’ dreams if you can’t truly attain your own.
Eve and Aoi have no such problems, of course, and inevitably, it’s them who are chosen to represent their high school in the doubles tournament. This, presumably, will form the show’s final arc.
Birdie Wing will not appear in this column again. I intend to review the series, and at this point I should focus as much on the big picture as I do individual episodes. But single cour though it is relegated to, Birdie Wing has been, and continues to be, an incredible ride, and I am happy to have gone on it with all of you.
Summer Time Rendering
There are a lot of things that are surprising about Summer Time Rendering. One is simply how popular it’s been despite the fact that a certain streaming service is still holding its English release in proverbial prison. Unofficial releases float around anyway, of course, and via a heavily-dialectical fansub (based on the manga’s translation), many people have found one of their Spring favorites regardless.
For me, Summer Time Rendering—unusually spelled name and all, it’s a pun—is a peculiar beast. Another, at least to me, is just how well-made it is. Maybe I’m just out of touch with the genre, but I feel like there aren’t many supernatural thrillers getting made anymore. Summer Time Render does not redefine the genre, but it’s a great take on it thusfar, leaning into the genre’s strong points and mostly (though not entirely) avoiding its pitfalls.
Since a fair chunk of people are waiting for the official release, I’m loathe to spoil too much about the series, even though certain aspects of it practically beg discussion (for example, walking “wow, that’s gender” tweet Ryuunosuke). The core point is that over the course of its run so far, Summer Time Render has managed to be both hair-stands-on-end spooky and one of the best action anime airing right now. That’s pretty impressive, although OLM rarely deliver anything but top-notch productions, so maybe I shouldn’t be so surprised.
The Executioner & Her Way of Life
I have to admit, I fell behind on The Executioner & Her Way of Life for a while, which is why it’s been a bit since it showed up here. I’m glad I caught up this week in time for the finale, though. (Which will have already aired by the time you read this, although I won’t be covering it, if I do, until next week. Lead times and all.)
Since we last spoke, Executioner has turned into a full-on horror film. That’s not to say that its isekai (and more generally, fantasy) trappings have gone anywhere, but it’s rapidly become clear that the world Executioner takes place in is, if anything, even more fucked up than we thought. For its tenth episode, Executioner gave a sensible motive to arc villain Manon Libelle (Manaka Iwami, just in case I forgot to credit her before). There, we learned that Flare killed her mother before telling her that she was not worth killing. Why? Well, despite her mother being a Lost One, Manon herself is just an ordinary girl, and there’s nothing taboo or forbidden about ordinary girls, no matter who their parents are. Quite rightly, this fucked Manon up—something she actually acknowledges, in what is either the show being a bit too clever or the character herself gussying up her own backstory—and her whole plot over the show’s second half has been driven by a desire to attract Menou’s attention so the executioner will kill her as well.
We’re not actually really here to talk about Manon, though. She dies in the second half of episode 10, and the mysterious mute girl we’ve been seeing occasionally for a while now (Anzu Haruno) formally takes over as the show’s main baddie. Her name is Pandaemonium, and she is fucking scary.
Not just because of the full-on gnarly body horror the show starts deploying as soon as she shows up, although that certainly helps. There’s some arcanobabble in here about how she can’t die because she uses herself as a sacrifice to resurrect herself, a sort of Magic The Gathering infinite loop combo as applied to some truly grisly storytelling. The real reason she’s frightening—at least to me—is her cavalier attitude toward all this. She cheerily introduces herself to Menou and starts announcing her summoning a horde of demons like she’s hosting a B-Movie marathon (a term she actually uses, which raises questions of its own). All the while twisting her own head off in a way that is, sincerely, super fucking grotesque.
But of course being introduced to this total horror villain who spouts blood and cheeky metatext in equal measure is just step one. Menou has to actually fight her, too. Episode 11 only deals in part, though, with that particular fateful encounter, because there are quite a few other things going on as well. As Menou—and eventually, Princess Ashuna, as well—fight off Pandaemonium, Akari encounters her, too. There is a lot of exposition, here. The key point is the revelation that, at least if Pandaemonium is to be believed, Akari cannot actually meaningfully change her fate. Even when Akari declares that she has no desire to return to Japan, Pandaemonium taunts that she’s failed to have Menou kill her every time so far for a reason. Someone, possibly Flare herself, is interfering.
Other things Pandaemonium says about her are similarly upsetting. Perhaps the most so is the notion that Akari’s lack of desire to return to Japan stems firstly from the fact that she can barely remember it anymore—using one’s Pure Concept powers erodes their soul, including their memories—and secondly from the fact that she wasn’t treated well there. (We see only a brief flash of her being bullied, but that’s really all the context we need.)
In a way, this is both a literal advancement of the plot, but also a step backward for Executioner. As a social outcast using the other world as a way to escape the life she once lead in her own, this recontextualizes Akari as very much a typical isekai protagonist, even if the specifics are different. I’m unwilling to call this a letdown, because it’s likely that this is on purpose on Executioner‘s part. And indeed, part of the point Pandaemonium makes—and she isn’t wrong, exactly, even if she’s only saying it to get under Akari’s skin—is that Akari’s actions are inherently selfish. No world, after all, exists for one person alone. But all this is a bit of a curveball as the show heads into its finale. I do wonder if it might end up with a pretty common fate for anime that adapt still-ongoing works; ending without resolving much of anything at all.
Still, there is only one way to find out. The finale awaits.
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.
Let’s Watch is a weekly recap column where I follow an anime for the course of its entire runtime. Expect spoilers!
Last week’s dodgeball plan out the window, Anya Forger needs to find a new way to earn Stella stars if Operation Strix has any chance of succeeding in the long term. In this week’s episode of Spy x Family, she finds a way, although not intentionally, and not without a fair bit of harrowing suspense beforehand.
The episode opens simply, with Loid again struggling with Anya as the latter’s grades continue to sink, although with a more understanding approach than we’ve previously seen. (Also, at one point Loid mentally refers to Anya as his daughter with no further clarifiers, which I think is sweet.) Even from the point of view of a mundane parent, Anya’s scores would be a problem; we see at least three F’s, and there may be several more, so clearly, he’s got to do something. Anya’s academic woes aren’t solved in this episode. Even as she has a fun internal monologue about how she can totally just read other peoples’ minds to cheat, and makes an attempt to sound like Loid while she does so, it’s clear that things need to change for Anya to have any hope of getting a Stella.
All of this vexes Twilight. And indeed, Anya’s ESP means that since she can read his mind, his worries become hers in a very real and immediate sense; a literalization of the idea that children tend to inherit their parents’ anxieties.
He does hit upon one possible solution though, a father-daughter “ooting” to a local hospital. There, he hopes that perhaps Anya acquiring a taste for volunteer work might eventually lead to her getting a Stella for being an exceptional community member. If not any time soon, at least eventually.
Loid gets far more than he bargained for. Initially, this is played for comedy. Anya, being a girl of recall, only five or so, is terrible at helping out around the hospital, first breaking a vase and then shirking her task to reorganize the hospital library by reading their comics section. (Presumably, something they keep around to entertain young patients, which Anya definitely falls in that bracket.)
Just when this gets bad enough that the Forgers are practically kicked out, though, something much more serious occurs. A young boy named Ken, attending a physical therapy session in the hospital’s pool room, idles around near the adults’ pool. Not paying much attention (do kids ever?) he falls in, and almost immediately “Stella” takes a turn for the significantly darker.
Ken cannot swim, and being unable to even thrash or make noise, he simply sinks to the bottom of the pool like a rock. The direction of the episode takes a sharp detour into the visually harrowing here, with the underwater shots especially composed like something out of a tragic drama. The boy is saved only by his own thoughts; mental pleas for help that happen to be picked up by our resident psychic.
In a visible panic of her own, Anya rushes off to the pool with a flimsy excuse to help. Thankfully, Loid gives chase, because even though her bravery is admirable and her desire to help equally so, Anya can’t swim either, and it’s only the fact that Loid hurries after Anya into the pool room that saves both her and Ken. A mission well done, if ever there was one.
Her role in Ken’s rescue is enough to earn Anya the titular Stella, her very first. She gets something vaguely akin to a henshin or other kind of visual power-up sequence as it’s put on her uniform, and it puts a sweet cap on what is otherwise a rather harrowing story. Perhaps more important than the Stella is the other thing Anya has earned: some self-confidence. For the first time, she considers that her powers might be able to actually help people. (And, of course, that this might make people like her. Something she’s also still not entirely accustomed to.)
The remainder of the episode focuses on the aftereffects of all this. Anya briefly gets a bit of a big head, in fact.
But unfortunately her hopes that having earned a Stella in a genuinely heroic fashion might endear her to her classmates are quickly dashed. Some nameless girls in class are straight-up mean about it, and even suggest she might’ve faked it somehow. Only for Damian (!) to, roundaboutly at least, stick up for her by telling the gossips that if they think Eden is such a cut-rate school that they’d hand out a Stella by accident, they should transfer. (He leaves out the part where the main reason he cares about Anya’s Stella being authentic is that it hurts his pride that she got one before him. And it would hurt even more if it weren’t genuinely earned.)
Anya’s little friend Becky also suggests, running on pure spoiled-little-princess logic, that since Anya did something good she should ask for a reward. Eventually, she hits on the idea of a dog (because, you see, Damian has a dog. And if Damian has a dog and Anya also has a dog they’ll have something to talk about. And that will lead to world peace. The mind of a first-grader is incredible. The mind of a telepathic first-grader, all the more so). Anya’s able to talk Loid and Yor into it fairly easily—though not without them respectively wondering about a dog’s utility as a house guard and threat level respectively—and the episode ends there, with the promise of Dog Shenanigans next week for the last episode of the first cour.
Except, there’s a little bit more. Somewhere in a mad laboratory-turned-hellish dog pound, a group of canines who’ve had something done to them—it’s not clear what—waste away in tiny, dirty cages. A pair of villains, obvious by their poor treatment of the animals, talk about their client, who they speculate will use the animals as “bomb dogs.” What the broader implications of any of this may be are presently unclear, but the camera focuses on one dog in particular as the episode fades out, and I do suspect we’ll be seeing him again soon.
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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.
Let’s Watch is a weekly recap column where I follow an anime for the course of its entire runtime. Expect spoilers!
We knew this day would come. There’s been a fire burning in Miyuki Shirogane’s heart since we first learned that he’d be transferring abroad for college, probably since before then. Hourglasses wait for no one, and Miyuki and Kaguya’s dynamic has shifted fairly drastically since the first season, or really even, the earlier parts of this season.
Episode 11 is, top to bottom, filled with the actions of a man who knows he’s running out of time, and running out of time fast. We learn at the very end of this episode that the transfer to Stanford is not some far-off thing, he’s been accepted. And will be skipping his last year of high school. Shooting for the moon is no longer an option; it’s a necessity.
But as much as this episode does to pour the powder in and light the fuse, the long-awaited confessionary gun does not fire just yet. That’s for next week’s episode, a double-length finale. This week, there’s a lot of tension, a lot of buildup, and, thankfully, still quite a lot of jokes. A ton of great visual tricks here, too, most of which I don’t have the space to discuss individually.
We begin with what I’m fairly sure is a deliberate throwback to the back-and-forth antics of season one. Kaguya visits a balloon tying table, which ‘just so happens’ to be staffed by Shirogane. Obviously, she wants him to make her a balloon heart, but in her own mind she still can’t just say that, leading to her giving out an increasingly ridiculous list of things that the balloon can’t be, culminating with her arguing that flowers are animals. (It’s complicated.)
Notably, in this and a few other nods to the first season’s structure, Kaguya and Shirogane’s roles are reversed. It is now Kaguya who is at a distinct “disadvantage” when it comes to playing these little games. Notice, for instance, how things turn when she finally gets her heart balloon, and finds out that you don’t pay for them with money like you do any of the other designs.
Whoops!
Flustered, she slaps far too much money down and flees. It’s funny, but it does also show that Kaguya and Shirogane are really no longer even doing the same thing. When they both thought they had all the time in the world to work this out, the stakes were relatively low. Now that Shirogane, at least, knows that that’s not the case, he has much less to lose. (Arguably, he never had anything to lose in the first place other than perhaps a misplaced sense of pride, but you know how teenagers are.)
Eventually, Kaguya encounters Tsubame, who is having a tough time figuring out how to respond to Ishigami’s unintentional confession. Specifically, figuring out how to turn him down. She’s used to turning down playboy types who think they’re entitled to her, but Ishigami’s confession was (from her point of view, see last episode’s recap for how this whole mixup happened), sincere and straightforward, and that’s not something she knows how to deal with.
It’s not even, really, that she doesn’t like Ishigami. She just doesn’t know him very well, and is concerned that being in a serious relationship would damage other areas of her life.
Kaguya, always with a minor in villainy, initially assumes that the person she’s talking about must be someone else—and thus one of Ishigami’s rivals—and in the process she very nearly convinces Tsubame to shut him down in perhaps the worst way possible.
Thankfully things eventually clear themselves up. Kaguya and Tsubame eventually find themselves spying on Chika, who deals with the out-of-the-blue confession that she gets by challenging her would-be beaux to a quiz and then spouting koans at him.
There’s also a short scene where Iino very nearly gets sweet-talked by a pair of random incidental characters. Girl really needs to be more careful (thankfully Ishigami is there to bonk her on the head).
The remainder of the episode sees Kaguya run into Shirogane again. He promptly invites her to walk around the festival, and once again, Kaguya does not entirely know how to deal with Shirogane’s suddenly much more blunt personality. When she asks him if people won’t get the idea that they’re on a date, to which he promptly responds….
….again, he knows he’s running short on time. All of this is fairly interesting in that outside of the context of Kaguya-sama as a series itself, it wouldn’t be that notable. But within that context, knowing what we do about both of these people, Shirogane’s sudden comparative boldness is pretty striking.
This includes, for example, taking her to a fortune telling booth manned by a girl known for asking questions that border on the lascivious. Meet Yume Atenbo (Ai Kakuma). She’s what some sorts of people, a long time ago, would’ve called a one-scene wonder. She gets in, does her thing, and gets out. She’s kind of amazing, an opinion I definitely don’t hold in part because she’s dressed up as a witch and my Twitter account is called “Jane the Anime Witch.”
She needles the two to the point of, frankly, harassment. (As always, romcoms are not a good place to get your notions of proper romance or just behavior in general from, kids.) But she does also drop this particularly interesting bombshell in between all the quips about how Kaguya will make a great wife.
Is she just messing with them? Is she playing cupid? Does she have actual supernatural insight somehow? Who knows, but no matter the method, she is actually right, as we’ll come to see. She also compares Kaguya to pure water; someone whose very nature changes depending on who she surrounds herself with. (I would argue this is true of all people to some extent, but that it’s truer of Kaguya than most would not necessarily be wrong.)
The both of them flustered (but definitely happy), Kaguya and Shirogane spend much of the remaining day together, after a hilarious sequence where the two narrowly avoid having their date ruined by random interference from their friends. (My favorite of these involves Iino, who is hungry, and gets abruptly drafted into a soba-eating contest out of nowhere before she can even talk to the two of them.)
Near the end of the episode, Kaguya has this absolutely adorable thought.
The only thing putting a damper on this happy ending is what I mentioned back up there in the very first paragraph. Shirogane needs to talk about something serious, and it’s not what Kaguya would’ve wanted to hear.
Can they make it work out somehow? Will Shirogane actually find the nerve to confess his love? Will the mysterious phantom thief stealing up all the heart balloons ever be caught? (Yeah, that whole plot runs throughout the background of this episode, too. It’s why Chika’s in her Love Detective uniform up in the banner.) All of these questions and more will be answered next week in the finale. See you then, Love is War fans!
Bonus Hayasaka Screencap, which I have been shamefully forgetting to do: Here’s Hayasaka giving a full-on idol performance during the school festival.
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.
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