The Frontline Report [11/29/21]

The Frontline Report is a weekly column where I summarize my journey through anime, manga, and the related spheres of popular culture over the past week. Expect spoilers for covered material.


Hello again, anime fans. I don’t have terribly much to say in my lead-in here. It’s been a bit of a week and I’m a bit struck by the winter blues. I hope you won’t begrudge me that this week’s column is only about two shows. For what it’s worth, I think they’re some of the best that have aired this year. One of 2021’s great stories comes to an end and another begins to hit its stride….

The Heike Story

A common nugget of wisdom holds to show, not tell, when weaving a story. But it’s a false dichotomy in some ways. In the Heike Monogatari, now concluded after eleven weeks, the showing and the telling are one in the same. Never has this been more true than in the series’ final act, where Biwa, fully embracing her role as a chronicler of fate, tells us of the Heike’s demise as we see it happen; two perspectives unified like the visions from her own mystical eyes.

The series’ finale is a thing of beauty. The Heike Clan make their final stand in a battle at sea. They lose, as we knew they would from day one. Many, including the young Emperor, cast themselves into the sea. It is not what you’d call a happy ending.

A common criticism I saw of Heike Monogatari during its airing is why, exactly, Biwa did not “do more” to help the Heike who are, after all, her adopted family. As a critique it makes some sense on the surface. She can see the future, and if anime has trained us to expect anything it’s that those with heterochromia and mysterious powers will intervene to stop bad things from happening. But I cannot help but think this is a simplistic view of both Biwa’s personhood and her situation. She is a witness to history; as we all are, in spite of whatever unique talents we may or may not have. Many of us could “do more” to change things with our own talents, yet we do not. If it is a character flaw on her part, it is one most of us share.

And then there’s the series’ moral, such as it is. A fundamental truth of the world; all things are impermanent. Everything dies, empires rise only to fall. What remains are the stories we pass down and the feelings we hold with us. That, truly, is all.

This is a theme that has run through some seventy years of anime history, but if one wanted to find contemporary examples, they would not need to look all that hard. Surely critics who have studied more classical literature than I have will point out that this is a “very Japanese” and “very Buddhist” theme. Perhaps these things are true, the series is based on a historical epic after all and such things are very much informed by their era and place. I also think, though, it may also be a warning against self-importance akin to what we often grant ourselves here in the Anglosphere. We treat ourselves as living at history’s end, but it continues to happen every day in spite of us.

Heike Monogatari‘s true triumph is to delve into the minds of those gone by; to make the past feel real by showing us the human beings behind history’s academic brushstrokes. In doing so, it reminds us that we are all mortal, and we are all witnesses. Like Biwa, many of us will live to see the fall of all kinds of empires. The only question is whether we will deign to sing about it.

I do my best to sing. Do you?

Ranking of Kings

I don’t usually pick shows up mid-season, but Ranking of Kings (known as the somewhat snappier Ousama Ranking in its home country) just didn’t give me much of a choice. “Positive buzz” is one thing, but Ranking on a pure visual level does not look like most anime. This is a reflection of the source material, which seems to draw both on a western-influenced fairy tale book influence and on older strains of anime, not many of which have particularly many artistic descendants in the modern day. So provably, even speaking aesthetically, Ranking stands apart from the usual seasonal grind. This would be interesting on its own, but without a strong story to back it up, it wouldn’t be worth much. Thankfully, Ranking stands as a buzzer-beater candidate for one of the year’s most unique anime from just about every angle. Its visual style could fool one into thinking it’s a happy, straightforward story, but the truth of the matter is that it’s more of a deliberate contrast against the complex character writing and political machinations that our lead, the Deaf Prince Bojji, finds himself caught in.

It’s an utterly fascinating little show, and eight episodes in I can confidently say I have no idea where it’s going to go from here. But what I can do is tell you where it’s been. Doing so alone should be enough for any skeptics to hop aboard the Bojji Train before it’s too late.

Our setup is pretty simple. Bojji is the eldest son of Bosse, the king of a nameless kingdom of which he was the founder. In the show’s opening act, Bosse dies, leaving the question of succession a difficult one. Bojji is Deaf, physically small, and has the misfortune of living in a distinctly fantasy-medieval setting. (Ranking effortlessly pulls off letting us into Bojji’s inner world without any spoken dialogue, but many of the adults around him tend to treat him with vague disdain, or at best, an infantilizing overprotectiveness.) He’s also not much of a swordsman, despite the guideship of his trainer Domas. Though interestingly, he’s great at dodging, a skill that has yet to quite pay dividends narratively but is sure to later.

In contrast to Bojji, there is his younger half-brother, Prince Daida. Daida is much more in the image of a traditional heir to the throne than Bojji. It is thus unsurprising that when Bosse passes away, the kingdom’s council of advisors votes to install Daida as the king instead of his older brother. One might initially think that the story’s central conflict will come down to Bojji’s quest to reclaim his rightful throne, and it may still circle back around to that eventually, but something that simple would not do justice to the sheer amount of stuff this series has covered so far.

For instance; adding fuel to the movement to replace Bojji as the heir apparent is that when Bosse passes away, a massive red devil appears and gestures at the prince. What does this mean? We still don’t know a good half-cour later.

Which is good, because that’s how you build some genuine mystery. Details like this are packed into every minute of Ranking’s runtime and things are only explained directly if absolutely necessary. As a watching experience, it’s engrossing, and doesn’t have much recent competition. I haven’t even brought up Bojji’s plus-one, his shadowy friend Kage who the prince won over with his kindness, and whose obligate backstory episode is one of the show’s highlights.

Some of this attention to detail might come down to Ranking‘s runtime; it’d feel rushed were it only one cour, but it’s thankfully two. (This sadly puts it out of the running for my top five list I’ll be publishing at the end of December. I’m sure the folks at Wit Studio are just heartbroken.)

I have to admit that I considered doing a writeup of this week’s episode as well, but in deference to those who have perhaps not started watching the show yet but might find it interesting based on what I’ve said, I will not do so. Next week, though, you have my promise! Stay strong in the meantime, Prince Bojji!

He’s a mighty little man.


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.

Let’s Watch TAKT OP.DESTINY: Episode 8

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


There’s a simple trick that anime sometimes use to signal that the episode you’re about to watch is intense. If an anime’s OP is either skipped entirely or played right at the top of an episode, you know you’re in for quite a time. takt op.Destiny does the latter here with its eighth episode, “Destiny -Cosette-“, and it delivers on all counts.

We pick up immediately after last week’s cliffhanger. Takt–quite understandably given what we learned in that episode–has lost it. He charges into battle like a madman and, perhaps predictably, this is not a great approach against the more skilled Shindler and the just generally very strong Hell. He’s beaten within an inch of his life before Destiny carries him off.

Takt, thus, spends a good chunk of episode 8 bleeding out and delirious. Anime characters have pulled off compelling turns in more unlikely circumstances, so it’s not really a huge shock that for the third episode in a row we get some interesting insight into Takt’s character here as Destiny tries her best to nurse him back to health. Even while Takt, barely-conscious, mistakes her for Cosette. All of this takes place over the episode’s relatively brief middle third, and packs a pretty impressive amount of emotional character work into just a dozen or so minutes. The dark atmosphere of the cave that Destiny drags Takt into helps, admittedly, providing a suitably transitional backdrop for the emotional development in question.

It hasn’t been hard to intuit that Takt is still hung up on the late Cosette. Admittedly, with how these things sometimes work in anime it was hard to initially be totally certain that she was even actually dead. (takt op.Destiny would not have been the first anime to pull this sort of double bait-and-switch maneuver.) But as the show’s gone on it’s become clear that Takt really misses the girl. We get some elaboration on the “why” here, and some questioning into if holding that old flame is at all healthy.

On the one hand, yes, it was Cosette who pulled Takt out of his depression while Anna was taking care of him. But these feelings are complicated and muddy, and Takt has never been able to sort them out. Wisely, they’re not given any specific name here, which would risk cheapening them and would turn Cosette’s early-series death into little more then a vehicle for cheap tears.

It may be a touch surprising to add takt op to the list of anime this year that understand that emotional connections are not clear-cut things, but it’s welcome. When people leave our lives, we remember their shadows as much as the real person. Things left unsaid must remain so, and Takt’s inability to deal with that has held him back from genuine connection with the people who need him now. Chiefly Destiny herself, but also Anna and the scores of people they’ve met along their journey.

It’d be easy to criticize all of this as fairly standard “male lead gets all the depth” stuff, but I think looking at Destiny and her own struggles both throughout this episode and in prior ones makes it pretty clear that that isn’t true. Her loyalty and earnestness are not traits she has because she’s in a role that expects them, but because she lives them full-heartedly. Plus, there are little details that could easily have been played up for easy romantic tension but aren’t. When Destiny has to give Takt mouth-to-mouth, for instance, it is refreshingly devoid of any blushy hemming and hawing, something a lesser show would absolutely indulge in.

Random aside to remind you that mid-distance models are great, actually.

Instead, the closest the two are here is when Takt finally calls Destiny by her real name for the first time. I have to confess that I’ve been pretty “meh” on the idea of the two as a couple (the entire “a new person living in the body of Takt’s dead crush” thing is, admittedly, weird) but this scene is the best case for it that takt op has ever made. It feels natural in a way that the light hinting toward the pairing in prior episodes hasn’t.

If I could make one complaint, it’s that Anna does continue to get the short end of the character screen-time stick, as she’s physically quite far away from the action here. Although her own mini-plot here is quite good as well. She confronts her own insensitive habit of calling Destiny “Cosette” as a way of ignoring that the latter is truly gone, and at episode’s end she calls Destiny by her proper name too, bringing this ongoing subplot to a warm close.

(I would like to take an aside here to brag about being six or so episodes ahead of the actual characters in terms of referring to Destiny and Cosette as two different people. But hey, I’m not an anime character and thus have agency of my own. Not everyone is so lucky. 😛 )

Most of that in just the middle of the episode. So how does it actually end?

Well, let’s discuss its antagonist first. It should not be news to any readers who’ve been keeping up with the show that Shindler sucks. He’s a petty, grasping would-be authoritarian shitheel with no regard for other people, and whose hatred of Takt stems from jealousy at the boy’s talent and perceived importance. He is not a subtle or deep character, but he is very easy to hate, which happens to be a good trait for an arc villain to have. We also learn in this episode that he apparently actually hates music full stop. Sure, why not.

Hell, his Musicart, is entertaining, although she leans a bit too hard on the “sadomasochistic berserker” archetype that seems to pop up in every action anime. Her fun design and incredible choice of weaponry (I’m still not over the heel-mounted blades) make her a good counterbalance to Shindler.

Isn’t she just the worst, folks?

Why relitigate these characters? Because the episode ends with a rematch, of course. Destiny initially confronts Hell and Shindler alone. Unable to transform with Takt still recovering in the cave, she comes out swinging a pair of woodchopping axes* and nothing else. It’s commendably confident, but she can’t stand up to Hell’s full power by herself. Naturally, Takt staggers in to lend his power. Also naturally, Destiny chews him out for not taking care of himself and calls him an idiot. (Sidenote to the show-writers: if you’re going to make them a couple in the four episodes we have left. They need to keep this dynamic.) Naturally again, Shindler gets angry because they’re arguing with each other instead of paying attention to him. Naturally one more time, Leonard and Titan make their grand return in the nick of time, the foreshadowing from last episode (and, to be fair, some appearances earlier in this episode that I haven’t discussed) paying off wonderfully.

This machine kills fascists.

And then, honestly, the sort of scene that words cannot really do full justice to. This is where the aforementioned bit where Takt calls Destiny by her real name comes in, and the renewed connection between the two lets them re-enter the fray with full force. The fight scene is just superb, capping off with one of those huge energy blast vs. differently-colored huge energy blast sequences that, just speaking personally, I’ve loved since I watched Dragon Ball Z with my stepdad as a kid and have never stopped loving.

The fight ends here, not because Hell is entirely defeated but because a mysterious Musicart intervenes. Given this show’s general lack of subtlety her name is, of course, Heaven. Heaven’s proper debut here makes quite the impression; she apparently has the authority to both strip Shindler of his rank and to requisition his Musicart, both of which she does, leaving the now-former Conductor a stuttering mess. He promptly has a breakdown, which, honestly, after all of the nonsense he’s put our cast through, feels about right. Leonard and Titan are reprimanded too, apparently more for interacting with Takt than anything else.

We conclude on a note of triumph and catharsis tinged with an ominous shadow. Our heroes have succeeded for today, and are closer than ever as Takt silently vows to Cosette that he’s going to move forward from now on.

Also, and I cannot stress this enough, Anna and Destiny hug and it’s very cute.

Ah, but the final shot of the episode is this, revealing that Takt’s scarring is getting worse. Perhaps implying that using Destiny so much has really started to take a toll on him.

What will the consequences of all this be? It’s hard to know for certain, but I hope we’ll find out together, anime fans.

(Minor programming note: You may have noticed this week’s column was delayed by a day. That is a product of some personal stuff going on and I don’t expect it to repeat next week. Fingers crossed!)


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.

The Frontline Report [11/15/21]

The Frontline Report is a weekly column where I summarize my journey through anime, manga, and the related spheres of popular culture over the past week. Expect spoilers for covered material.


Hello folks. Quick programming note before we get started here: Frontline Report is going to be a Mondays column from now on, since it fits a bit better with my schedule. This week’s column is, we’ll say, medium length? And primarily about Rumble Garanndoll. Listen; some weeks you don’t choose the anime, the anime chooses you.

Hope you’re all doing well out there, anime fans.

Rumble Garanndoll

Most anime that suffer from the problems that Rumble Garanndoll did a few weeks back are not helped by introducing more characters. Especially not if they’re also girls with some amount of tease-y maybe-chemistry with the male lead. Yet, doing just that has put the series back on track, and its past two episodes are probably the most interesting the show has ever been. If nothing else, Rumble Garanndoll thus continues to defy expectations.

Last week’s episode, its fifth, concluded the miniature story arc of Yuki Aoba. Second-introduced battery girl, and quite possibly Japan’s last surviving idol singer. The natural self-doubt that comes with being an entertainer is compounded by the wildly difficult circumstances of Garanndoll’s setting, and so Hosomichi’s task is to get her back on track when she briefly gives the idol life up. It would be easy to do this by appealing to her imagined responsibility to her fans, or to simple nostalgia for better times, and Hosomichi does in fact try both. What eventually wins her over though is the fact that Yuki as an idol is how she’s happiest with herself, anyone else be damned. Her fans love her because she is a flawed, human person, not because of the artifice. This being Garanndoll, all of this climaxes with Yuki’s own version of the reconfigurable titular mecha–the Rabbit Two–blasting a True Army general to the ground with a rabbit-shaped beam made out of pure Idol Energy. As always, Rumble Garanndoll is at its best when it’s being least subtle.

And speaking of that, the show’s sixth episode is….well, it certainly is something.

I’ve previously commended Garanndoll for its general worldview as one of the show’s strengths. But if one ever thought that it was holding back, today’s episode tosses all subtlety to the window. This is very much a “backstory” episode, and an interlude between the series’ more bombastic moments. But in between usual interstitial fare like fun character interactions (and here, a harem series dynamic that only just manages to stay on the right side of the endearingly cheesy / annoyingly irritating divide), we get Rumble Garanndoll’s take on Japanese Nationalism.

Yes, you read that right.

It will shock no one who’s been following the series that it’s not a worldview the show holds in high regard. But even I was rather surprised at how blunt this sequence is. The conceit here is that one of the resistance’s members has smuggled in a propaganda film from the so-called True Country. There’s been some indication that they were from another world / another timeline / something like that. What’s made clear here, as the black-and-white war reel opens with a declaration that it was made in Year 90 of the “Eternal Showa Era,” is that this other world is one where Japan (and by implication, their allies as well) won World War II. Quite literally, the Japan of Rumble Garanndoll has been invaded by its own fascistic past. If that’s not quite condemnatory enough, here is what resistance commander Balzac says, word for word from the English sub track.

And coming in for the final blow is this interjection from Hosomichi’s “boss,” probably the most morally questionable character on the protagonists’ side of the show.

He perhaps has a talent for understatement.

The propaganda video itself is all monochrome authoritarian bluster. Captain Akatsuki Shinonome, our running background antagonist, decries the people of Garanndoll’s Japan–the declared “Illusory Country,” a heavy-handed erasure of the worth of millions of people–as failures with a “loser mentality.” If the show’s drawn lines from otaku culture to antifascist resistance have ever seemed silly (and I wouldn’t blame anyone for thinking they were), it’s worth noting that the rhetoric here is rooted in real examples. Moral panics about pop media permeate conservative regimes on both sides of the Pacific.

The propaganda film itself is eerily well-done, too. All monochrome except, of course, for the politically-charged imagery of blazing pink sakura blossoms.

Lest you think I’m giving the show too much credit for the “obvious” stance of being pro-democracy and freedom and anti-authoritarianist and censorship, I would point out that it is vanishingly rare for any country’s popular media to engage in such an openly condemnatory way with the dark parts of its own past. Nor does being “obvious” detract from its relevance and importance in a period of time where fascist talking points are increasingly resurfacing worldwide.

All this in the same episode that has a rather silly and drawn-out bath scene. What can I say? The show contains multitudes.

Mieruko-chan

In its more comedic moments, Mieruko-chan can struggle somewhat to justify its own existence as an adaption. At most things that make the series what it is; the creeping tension cut with enough comedy to keep it from being overwhelming, the manga is simply the better option. What Mieruko-chan the anime does offer though, if episode six is any indication, is a real treat on the rare occasions when the supernatural is helping Miko, in as much as it ever does.

The “Shrine Gods” chapter is adapted here, and it’s easily the standout sequence of the series so far. Miko bears witness to a pair–and then a trio–of shrine deities exorcising one of the most frightening phantoms she’s yet encountered. All while Hana remains naïve to the entire affair; fiddling with her phone camera and talking about Instagram while what’s essentially a horror’d up version of a shonen fight scene happens mere feet away. It’s funny, sure, but in moments like this Mieruko-chan feels like it’s exploring something a bit more worthwhile than the more disposable episodes of the anime adaption so far. Let’s hope it keeps that up.

Manga

Spy X Family

Wow, I know! A manga entry in a week where I’m not doing an actual manga shelf column. There’s a reason for that, though. I don’t have a ton to say about Spy x Family. I think it’s cute, charming, and funny. I picked it up again (after something of a false start a year or two ago) because I was interested in checking out the upcoming anime adaption. I can definitely see where enhancements and changes might be made, in particular with regard to Anya’s very good habit of looking incredibly smug. (And of course, I am very eager to see the beautiful Lor in animated form. 😊) Other than that? Everything you’ve heard about this one is true, I recommend checking it out if you have a chance.


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.

The Frontline Report [10/10/21]

The Frontline Report is a weekly column where I briefly summarize the past week of my personal journey through anime, manga, and the related spheres of pop culture. Expect some degree of spoilers for the covered shows.

This week’s header image is from Sakugan.


A short and sweet report this week, friends. I’ve been busy out there!

The Heike Story

Shigemori passes unexpectedly and the fate of the Heike Clan is sealed, all while Biwa is powerless to do much but watch. Last week a red flower fell, this week a white one.

It’s easy to lay in to someone like Shigemori, an ultimately passive man complicit through inaction on the ruin that the Heike are about to cause. But it’s even easier to sympathize with him, there are more Shigemori in the world than many of us would like to admit. It’s hard not to see yourself in him, even if, speaking for at least myself, I think most of us would prefer a happier end than this.

The show’s actual narrative is a foregone conclusion–being based on an epic from the 14th century will do that–but The Heike Story‘s how’s and why’s remain incredibly compelling even in light of that.

Elsewhere on MPA

Hoo boy.

So, the good news about my recent series of First Impressions posts is that people seem to really like them, which is great! I’ll also be attempting to cover takt op.Destiny weekly going forward considering the overwhelming response about that series in particular.

I’m not going to link you to everything I’ve written in the past week because that would be, frankly, absurd. Instead I’m going to direct your attention to the Seasonal First Impressions archive, where you can see for yourself all of the posts I’ve written for the season so far. I’ve still got one more in the chamber, even, as I plan to write a post on Ancient Girl’s Frame tomorrow. (It technically premieres tonight but you’ll forgive me for not wanting to put up a post at 10PM local time.)

Image

If you’ve known me for more than ten minutes you know I want to cover this. Image appears courtesy of Funimation’s Twitter account.

I’ve also redesigned the Directory, and speaking very generally, it should be much easier to browse the archives by post category now. Hopefully y’all will enjoy that. In any case, I hope you can all forgive the somewhat lean report this week. I’ve been very busy, as you can see!

I don’t normally bring this up in the body of my posts themselves, but if you’ve liked anything I’ve written over the past week, please consider donating. This blog is my only source of income, so it really does help a lot. Alternately, consider sharing it around if you can’t / don’t want to spend the money. Getting the word out is a huge help too. And of course your comments and thoughts are deeply appreciated as well.

Alright, I think that’s enough of me being sappy. Until next week, 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.

(PODCAST) KeyFrames Forgotten Episode 3 – WINDY TALES

Our third episode arrives some months late. Forgive us, folks! This whole podcasting thing is hard. More importantly; Windy Tales is a lovely, subtle little show from Production IG’s mid-2000s period with an unconventional art style and a lot to say about the impermanence of all things. You can listen to the podcast below, or, when it’s finished processing, check out the Youtube mirror at the bottom of this article.

KeyFramesForgotten is a podcast about anime you haven’t thought about in a while. Join anime nerds Jane-Michelle and Julian as they discuss anime from the recent or not-so-recent past that the general public has forgotten about. We discuss the merits of these anime, why the public has left them behind, and whether we think they’re worth a second look.


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

(REVIEW) The Door to The Common is Open: There’s a Light at the End of the Tunnel in BLUE REFLECTION RAY

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


She said
“I feel like I’ve come untethered,
in a room without walls.
I’m drifting on a dark and empty sea of nothing.
It doesn’t feel bad, it feels like nothin’ at all.”

Let’s not mince words, as far as gaining its own fanbase or leaving a cultural impact of basically any kind, Blue Reflection Ray never had a chance, at least not over here in the West. Not only was it easy to write off by anyone so inclined due to its floaty animation, sprawling story, Shoujo-inspired art style, and links to an already-obscure parent series (the larger Blue Reflection franchise), it was also sandwiched between two other magical girl anime tackling some similar subject matter in a more succinct and accessible way; Wonder Egg Priority and the second season of Magia Record respectively.

Nonetheless, it’s 24 weeks later and I find myself still with a real soft spot for BRR, in spite of everything. Maybe it’s because more than almost any other magical girl series I’ve ever seen, the enemy as personified in Blue Reflection Ray is not something simple. Instead, its real antagonist is sheer emotional burnout, the very death of feeling itself. Late in the series when main villain Shino infiltrates The Common, humanity’s collective unconsciousness, she drives the whole world into apathetic, mechanical lockstep. “Going through the motions” made very literal.

How do you tackle that? Comparatively little popular art in general even tries. And of that that has, it’s hard to argue Blue Reflection Ray is the best-equipped for it. But by god, there is glory in the fight, and fight Blue Reflection Ray did. Over the course of a nowadays-somewhat-rare two-cour run, this scrappy little show with a small initial audience and an ever-smaller one as it went on fought like hell. And now that it’s over, was it all worth it?

Let’s put it this way. Despite its ramshackle production, Blue Reflection Ray also has some real strengths. It takes genuine courage to even try to portray some of this stuff. And while one might (not incorrectly) accuse the show of being rather melodramatic, the fact remains that as a frank look at how bleak life can become when it’s defined by such evils as child abuse and suicidal ideation, there’s a real power to it. It feels written from a place of empathy, not voyeurism. Sincerity is a virtue, and it’s one Blue Reflection Ray has in spades.

As far as its literal story? Fairly simple stuff, at least in concept. A group of magical girls (the Reflectors of the title) must stop a villainous group, from robbing the innocent girls of the world of their feelings. The only obvious kink in the rope here is that the villains are another group of “red” Reflectors rather than monsters or something of the like. But Blue Reflection Ray‘s length lets the story unfurl and twist in odd, unusual ways. And the enemy Reflectors have their own complex backstories, which are doled out to us at a slow enough pace that in certain parts of the series, it can make one question if our girls are really in the right to begin with. The most prominent example being protagonist Hiori’s own sister, Mio, whose enigmatic decision to join Shino defines the first third or so of the series.

All these attempts at nuance do have a downside. Which is that while the characters’ stories are resonant and even powerful when properly played out, say, as in the case of turncoat Nina, anything that fails to be sufficiently resolved stands out as jarring. The most glaring example being the curious one-dimensionality of the aimlessly sadistic Uta, one of the red Reflectors. Some of this is understandable by virtue of the fact that Blue Reflection Ray is meant to link two games in its parent franchise, and some things are deliberately left to be resolved in the future, but Uta’s case is particularly strange. While she’s still a fun enough character, she sticks out like a sore thumb against the backdrop of the rest of the cast, who are otherwise fairly well-developed.

Uta after an average day of kicking puppies and stealing candy from orphans.

There is also the matter of that aforementioned production. Blue Reflection Ray has the misfortune of being a minor work by a studio long past its prime, J.C. Staff, and as such even the best-looking episodes are mostly competent rather than genuine eye-poppers, and some are outright bad. There is still some great direction here, and other aspects of the visual design, such as the peculiar look of the altered zones known as Leap Ranges, will certainly appeal to some. (I once described them as Madoka Magica‘s Witch Labyrinths by way of 90s computer art, and I stand by that comparison.) But on the whole BRR is not a series one should watch under the impression that it’s a feast for the eyes. Similarly, while there are a decent amount of fights, and some number of those contain most of the show’s best cuts, they tend to be over pretty fast.

On the other hand, all these restraints mean that on the rare occasion BRR does do something aesthetically in line with the traditions of the magical “transforming heroine” subgenre–your Pretty Cures, Sailor Moons, and such–it’s legitimately wonderful. In episode 23, the girls transform back to back for the one and only time in the whole series, complete with a transformation chant and a monster to fight afterward. And it is absolutely magical. Blue Reflection Ray is certainly aware that it’s part of a storied artistic lineage. If it only needs to invoke said lineage once, then that is enough.

So where does that leave us, all things considered?

Well, I choose to look at it this way; Blue Reflection Ray understands a certain truism of the human experience very well. We hurt ourselves in isolation but find solace in the company of others, it’s a concept as old as time. No man is an island. It’s also the same general idea that powers much of the magical girl genre, regardless of tone. It’s so obvious that it should be, by all rights, a cliché.

Yet, in BRR’s finale, with its deep blue sky, weepy reunions, and heavy, saccharine piano, it feels like nothing less than the truth all over again. The answer the series returns to, over and over again, is that love for each other is what can truly save us. Friendship, familial love, and romantic love, all equally important bulwarks against the darkness.

There is a minor running joke in some circles, one with more than a single grain of truth, that magical girl anime fandom can feel like a religion. If that’s so, let Blue Reflection Ray be a sermon, and let all who have ears hear the song. The same old same old has never felt so important.

“I’m pretty happy lying here with you,
it feels good to feel somethin’.”


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.

(REVIEW) I Would’ve Written a Review, But THE DETECTIVE IS ALREADY DEAD

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


“And thus, did my dizzying tale of adventure with Siesta begin….
Until death did us part.”

It may be difficult now, but try to think back to the opening week of this anime season. Alongside a number of rightly-hyped premiers by anime everyone kinda expected to be good, there was the comparatively obscure The Detective is Already Dead. Tantei wa mou, Shindeiru, as it’s known in its native Japanese, had, alongside heavyweights like Sonny Boy and the second season of Magia Record, one of the most promising premieres of the season. Said premiere, “Attention Passengers: Is There a Detective On Board?”, combined witty dialogue, a gonzo, very capital-A Anime set of central conceits, a truly impressive fight sequence, and one of the season’s best and, let’s be honest, simply coolest characters, the titular detective, into an entertaining stew that had a lot of potential. (Full disclosure; I may have a soft spot for “basically Sherlock Holmes, but an anime girl” as a character idea.)

The episode ran through the need-to-knows with the lightning speed and self-confidence of a pulp novel. The secret organization SPES and their army of cyborgs are threatening the world! It’s up to our hero, the legendary detective Siesta, and her straight-laced assistant Kimihiko “Kimi” Kimizuka to stop them! It opens a mile in the air during a plane hijacking and ends in a high school, our leads pulling a drug bust on a dealer in a bunny costume. Capping it all off was a wildly romantic sequence at the episode’s tail end, followed by the header quote in the closing narration to hit us with the emotional coup de grace. Our hero’s been dead the entire time! How will her heartbroken assistant carry on without her? It remains one of the year’s single best episodes, and nothing else I am about to say can or is trying to change that. Episode directors Shin’ichi Fukumoto and Marina Maki should be proud.

I bring all this up not to belabor a point, but to make it clear that, yes, there was a period of time–however brief–when people thought this might be, at the very least, one of the season’s better anime. Twelve weeks on, where its reputation is somewhere between “trainwreck” and “widely-dropped laughingstock” that can seem hard to believe, but it’s true. On one level, the answer to the question “what went wrong?” is extremely simple; none of those strengths remained present for the remainder of the series, and some dropped off earlier than others. But on another, Detective is a downright fascinating case of a show almost systematically undercutting itself at every turn. Detective started falling apart as early as its second episode, and despite some intermittent highlights throughout, it never really recovered either.

We can start by making one thing very clear. Detective‘s problems do not stem from its premise. They’re certainly not helped by it, but it is very possible to tell the story of a life in the past tense. To focus on what the bygone has left behind, to examine how the people around them move on or how they fail to move on. Detective doesn’t entirely fumble this, but it misses more often than it hits. In fact, its handling of this premise reminds me of nothing less than the largely-forgotten Blast of Tempest, which had many of the same issues for some of the same reasons. The core problem is simple; if the central character of your show is dead or otherwise MIA in the present day, she needs a very strong supporting cast. And Siesta, like that show’s Fuwa Aika, simply does not have one. She is a compelling character in search of a compelling anime. It is largely her who renders the show watchable at all, as all the other characters are so underdeveloped that she appears deep as the ocean by contrast.

Instead, she gets Kimi, who to his limited credit, does work out an entertaining straight man / weird girl dynamic with Siesta. They form a fun duo much like their archetypal ancestors (say, Kyon and Haruhi) did.

Yes that’s still Siesta in the top image. Listen, just roll with it.

There is also Nagisa, Siesta’s replacement, who is in almost every sense a much less engaging character, but who has the benefit of being the recipient of a heart transplant from none other than the late detective herself to at least arouse some mystery. The remaining characters are so thin that they are barely worth mentioning. There’s a chuuni-ish idol complete with an eyepatch (Yui Saikawa), an ambiguous foreigner with some ill-defined relationship to Siesta (Charlotte Anderson), and a mysterious child (Alicia) who turns out to secretly be the evil mastermind (Hel) in disguise / assuming another personality / something, it doesn’t really matter.

The fact that the episode where an idol pulls a revolver on the main character is one of the less interesting ones is not a great sign.

This lopsidedness of the cast ends up directly informing the episodes. As a general rule of thumb, those that center on Siesta and Kimi tend to be either genuinely good, even if only in a cheesy sort of way, or at least bad in a funny way. Those that focus on other characters are much less interesting. Sometimes they’re flat-out boring, which is a far worse crime than being ridiculous.

Beyond that, on a narrative level the show makes very little sense. The actual story is very simple, cataloging Siesta and Kimi’s attempts to take down SPES. And later, Kimi’s retirement from ‘detective’ work and eventual resumption of that same goal again, this time with Nagisa. But the show’s structure is so bizarre that it can be difficult to follow any of this. Why, for example, if the show’s central conceit is that Siesta is dead, does a huge chunk of it take place as flashback to when she was alive? These stories being told in this fashion adds nothing to the show. It makes it marginally more confusing to follow, but deliberate obfuscation is not the same as actually being interesting.

Something like The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya or Princess Principal is aired non-chronologically because in those cases, the approach helps develop the sort of story they’re trying to tell. (In the former case, Kyon and Haruhi’s emotional arc takes precedence over the literal events of the series. In the latter case, it is to build up mystery and selectively feed the audience information.) No such thing is true of Detective‘s clumsy halfway flashback deep-dive. And the fact that they are some of the show’s better episodes feels more like a happy accident than anything deliberate. It’d feel like course correction given the widespread but misguided criticism of the premise if that were how anime production worked. But it isn’t, so what gives?

And what to make of the show’s utterly baffling organ transplant motif? Organs, namely hearts, transferring ownership comes up some three times over the course of the series, which is too often in a show this short to simply be happenstance. And let me make an aside here, folks, I’m not professionally trained as a critic, so I’m certainly guilty of occasionally missing things more properly literate sorts would pick up on. But I am a thinking human being, and it’s rare that I just come up completely empty when rattling a metaphor around in my brain. I have no idea what it could possibly mean. None of the possibilities I’ve come up with–the perseverance of love? Specifically the strength of Siesta and Kimi’s relationship? Some hamfisted ‘people close to each other should help each other’ thing? A religious symbol?–hold up to scrutiny. I am left to conclude that it is either a very malformed metaphor or it simply isn’t one at all. In the latter case, why is it in the show at all?

That may seem like a minor point, but the same lack of purpose applies to many decisions made throughout the series. Elements like Yui’s job as an idol, the very fact that the antagonists are shapeshifting cyborgs, a weird micro-plot about priceless jewelry and another about a serial killer, the entire character of Hel, the fact that Siesta has a mecha(?!) at one point, even the series’ gratuitous Spanish subtitle, and the anticipated-and-then-quickly-forgotten cameo by Hololive virtual talents Matsuri Natsuiro and Fubuki Shirakami, seem like they were made less for any real reason and more simply because, well, they’re Cool. Or they’re the sorts of things that are “supposed” to be in light novels.

English-language info is sparse, but the case appears to be that Detective is the first-ever published novel by its author, Nigojuu, which may explain some of the amateurishness here. Or, maybe it’s the other way around! Studio ENGI are not exactly a powerhouse, perhaps they butchered the material. Maybe the light novel’s defenders are right and all this somehow does make more sense in book form. Hell, maybe it’s somehow both at once.

All this said, even with its frankly many flaws in mind, I can’t really hate or even actively dislike Detective. It has too many actually-solid moments and too many bad-in-a-funny way moments to have burned its goodwill from that first episode away entirely. A harsher viewer may write such things off, but I can’t pretend I didn’t enjoy a decent chunk of the show, even in spite of all its problems.

That, and there is that Detective does get one thing right. Especially towards its end. Sometimes, people we’ve known all our lives can disappear like a dream at sunrise. Sometimes too, we do not even get the chance to say goodbye. This is the sole emotional string the anime manages to play correctly, and even then it’s oddly stingy about it. But aside from Siesta’s strength as a character, it is this that saves the show from being a total loss.

As an even mildly adventurous anime watcher, you expect to take a gamble on some amount of shows that end up not exactly being amazing. Detective is, by any reasonable metric, middling, rather than outright awful. But that doesn’t make it good. Which puts it in a strange nowhere-zone, both in terms of relevance and in terms of simple quality. This is another of this year’s anime that will absolutely not survive the march of history, mentioned as it will be only as a curio or a “hey, do you remember that show with….?” answer. At best, perhaps some of the staff will go on to bigger and better things. In which case it will be an amusing trivial footnote. Call it a victim of the production bubble, call it just poorly-conceived. It is impossible to imagine Detective outside of this present time and place; mid-to-late 2021 specifically. It’s a born relic.

Yet, strangely, from a certain (and I’ll admit, uncommon) point of view, that gives it its own kind of hopeless underdog charm. The show itself only just barely manages to scrap together something out of its primary theme of transience (and all else it attempts falls resoundingly flat, make no mistake), but in a meta sort of way, Detective is an ode to its own transience. Here for twelve weeks and then forgotten, as though it simply scattered into light the moment it ended. Like it was never there at all.

It’s one of the great mysteries of popular art. Sometimes something that is utterly mediocre will, just for a moment, capture the public imagination or make visible an inner light, only for that light to be snuffed out almost immediately. Such is the case with Detective‘s few true highlights. It is one of the great enigmas of our species’ collective creativity. As such, one would be tempted to ask a great problem-solver, perhaps one like Siesta herself, what to make of it.

But of course, such a thing is impossible. After all, the detective is already dead.


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.

The Frontline Report [9/19/21]

The Frontline Report is a weekly column where I briefly summarize the past week of my personal journey through anime, manga, and the related spheres of pop culture. Expect some degree of spoilers for the covered shows.


Hello folks. Not much to say this week, it’s just been a good, solid week of anime. I’ve got some full-on reviews planned for the weeks ahead, but we’re not quite at the finale of any anime of this season yet. In fact, one started this week, which is quite unusual, but Science SARU can just do what they want, apparently.

I’m also trying a slightly different format with the show writeups this week, now that they’ve developed the habit of exceeding a single paragraph in length (whoops). Hopefully you’ll find the new format a little more readable.


Heike Monogatari

The advantage of a show starting with a public execution is that you immediately know what you’re in for. Heike Monogatari is all period-piece Japanese political drama and haunting omens of future ruin. This story of the prophet-eyed orphan Biwa and her benefactor (Shigemori, a prince of the very same Heike clan that kill her father in the opening. He sees dead people) is backed by a deliberately-anachronistic soundtrack that blends the biwa music after which she’s named with head-down, guitars-plucked shoegazey indie rock.

In general, Science SARU’s work is always distinct, but this is a positively enrapturing first episode. War is coming like storm clouds on the horizon. Biwa can see it, but can’t stop it. This is to say nothing of the other colorful characters we’ve already been introduced to. There’s Shigemori’s father, the immediately-unlikable, obnoxious, head of the Heike, prone to calling things “amusing.” There’s Biwa’s surrogate siblings in her new family. And lastly there’s the mysterious white-haired figure chanting those prophecies of war, death, and violence, who may well be Biwa herself. As for all of us? Well, I suggest giving this thing a look. You won’t regret it.

Kageki Shoujo!!

The most recent episode and a half of Kageki Shoujo!! essentially consists of running the same scene of Romeo & Juliet, performed in-audition by the cast, back to back several times.

There are many reasons this should absolutely not work. Structurally, showing your audience the same thing more than once in a row is a nightmarish prospect. Doing it multiple times is narrative suicide. But Kageki Shoujo!! can pull it off, because it remembers an important truth of the arts. Any work that engages with acting will eventually hit upon the question of what acting is. The reason we can watch the same scene run back multiple times without getting bored is because each time, a different subset of the cast is highlighted. The focus is ostensibly on the characters’ actual performances of Romeo & Juliet, but the real gem is their meta-performances. For an actor, the stage is everywhere. Both the characters themselves and their own actors–the seiyuu who voice them–understand this. This is the point where all the blood, sweat, and tears becomes worth it. What redeems the amount of pressure they’ve had to put themselves under and the things they’ve had to neglect or discard to get here.

Each character who is spotlighted grapples with the question of how to best portray their character in their own way. Ai channeling Juliet by remembering the strong impression Sarasa made on her and Yamada doing the same by reflecting on her first love (and a love lost) are both show-wide highlights.

I never wholly bought into the narrative, perpetuated on some corners of the internet, that Kageki Shoujo!! was the “hidden gem of the season” or anything like that. It has, in my view, too many flaws for that (and a particularly nasty dead spot in episodes 8 and 9 are why I haven’t covered it on this column in a while.) But if it does gain a cult following over the years, it will be on the backs of both its harrowing depiction of Ai’s trauma in its first half, and on these final few episodes. They present the show’s core thesis in as concise, yet resonant, fashion as is possible. The only thing left for the series to do is stick the landing.

Love Live Superstar!

People don’t always believe me when I tell them that I make every effort to appreciate the anime I watch. Sometimes the secret to really “getting” a show is a change in perspective. I’ve previously been a little sour on Superstar because it doesn’t quite nail the more comparatively serious character moments the way I’d like it to. (And that’s true in this week’s episode too, where we’re treated to an unintentionally hilarious sequence where our cast spies on future group addition Ren Hazuki as she details her life story to her own maid, who almost certainly knows it already.) But as a comedy I think I’ve been under-appreciating it. It’s easy to take Superstar‘s very visual sense of humor for granted. Rewatching some bits from earlier episodes, I found myself liking them more. This week also had a truly excellent sequence in which the perennially silly Keke Tang imagines herself and her fellow idols as the victim of some kind of AKB0048-esque crackdown on school idol stuff.

Also; even if you’re not watching this show at all, take a moment of your day to appreciate the performance at the end of episode six. The CGI choreography for this stuff has gotten a lot more advanced over the years, and while it’s not quite to the level of Nijigasaki‘s full-on music video dreamscapes, it’s still a really impressive bit of visual showmanship.


Elsewhere on MPA

Magic Planet Monthly Movies: WORDS BUBBLE UP LIKE SODA POP is Simple Summer Sweetness – This is, as the first half of its title implies, the start of a new recurring column for the site. I feel like the central conceit is pretty explanatory; I plan to watch an anime film per month and review it. We’ll see how it goes! I’ve also retroactively added last month’s Evangelion 3+1 review to the tag, just because it happened to fit. Words Bubble Up Like Soda Pop is a wonderful movie, by the way. Give it a watch if you have the time.


If you like my work, consider following me here on WordPress or on Twitter, supporting me on Ko-Fi, or checking out my other anime-related work on Anilist or for The Geek Girl Authority.

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.

The Dream is Over – Brief Personal Reflections on THE AQUATOPE ON WHITE SAND

The two girls met in the ruins of damaged dream

When I was eighteen, I wanted to be a rap producer. In hindsight, with the self-awareness I now have nearly ten years later, it was a stupid idea. Like a lot of people whose ambition far outstrips their capability, I went to school for this doomed little fantasy. Perhaps predictably, I barely lasted six months, and a decade on the only thing I have to show for this part of myself that I mostly keep buried from public view is a lengthy bandcamp page of music no one listens to and a cloud of student debt that will loom over me for the rest of my life.

I bring this personal anecdote up not to needlessly self-deprecate, but to explain something about The aquatope on white sand, and how I find myself unexpectedly relating to it. Fundamentally, most popular fiction that deals with aspiration deals with fulfillment of that aspiration. It makes for an easy-to-plan story arc and it concludes in a satisfying ending. Your protagonist(s) want to become a dancer, or a singer, or an actor, or whatever. Across some amount of story-units, they struggle and fight, that distant mountain still in reach, and they eventually achieve their dream. In anime a common manifestation of this particular story-type is that of the idol anime genre (of which there is one airing right now), relevant here because aquatope‘s protagonist, Fuuka Miyazawa, is a former idol.

And that “former” is very important here. Fuuka begins aquatope with her brief career as an idol already in the past tense, her departure from the industry uneventful but bitter. (Its depiction in the first episode reminded me no small amount of one-off character Mana in Oshi No Ko.) She is adrift for much of the first two episodes, eventually settling in with the other lead, Kukuru Misatino, simply because the latter is willing to take her in. She’s hired by Kukuru’s aquarium, which is in financial tatters, and threatens to close at the end of the summer season.

At the tail end of the second episode, Fuuka realizes that even if she cannot fulfill her dream, she can help Kukuru with her aspiration of keeping the aquarium open. Where all of this will eventually go is not yet clear–aquatope is planned for a nowadays-rare two cours, so it has plenty of time to stretch its legs–but it’s clear that the series fundamentally understands that Fuuka’s renewed sense of purpose here is just as valid as her original goal to become an idol. That’s important, because the easy thing to do here would be to try to route her back into the industry, and treat that as the only valid form of “fulfillment”. That aquatope doesn’t do that is an excellent sign. (And gives me a lot more faith that its supernatural elements, which I haven’t mentioned up ’til now, will have some greater point, as opposed to merely being window dressing.)

Also, I suppose, naive as it may be, that I just see a commonality between myself and Fuuka. Criticism, or at least the mode of criticism I prefer to write in, is nothing if not the promotion of someone else’s dream. Uncountable hours go into any even remotely professional anime production, it is not a stretch to say that one making it to screen is the culmination of not just one dream but many. My approach makes for decidedly less interesting television, of course.

In its attitude toward Fuuka we find the first traces of what I suspect aquatope will eventually forge into its core thesis; the idea that in selfless lifting up of others’ passions one can find a way to rekindle, or reshape, their own. I am quite confident that by the series’ end, Fuuka will have found something new that fulfills her and brings her life meaning. And, yeah, I do relate to that, as someone who has turned this strange hobby that I picked up on a whim into a kind-of career without ever consciously planning to, I empathize with Fuuka quite a lot.

Beyond my own personal emotional mire; character writing this delicate is a rare thing, and while plenty of anime are good natured, not nearly as many can work in shades of compassion that are this subtle. aquatope is one to keep your eye on.


If you like my work, consider following me on Twitter, supporting me on Ko-Fi, or checking out my other anime-related work on Anilist or for The Geek Girl Authority.

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.

(REVIEW) Think Like a Biker – The Slowness and Sweetness of SUPER CUB

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


“We’ve already decided on our destination. The farthest end of Japan our Cub can take us.”

It’s about three minutes into Super Cub‘s first episode before anyone says anything. It’s nearly twelve before any kind of background music kicks in. That alone, and the show’s locale–rural Japan, somewhere along the Chuo Line–will clue you in that Super Cub is not merely your average slice of life series. This is an iyashikei, a tone genre that focuses on producing a healing, meditative effect. Any iyashikei is a thing of note; it’s not a particularly saturated genre. A genuinely good one is a precious treasure.

I must confess though, I went into Super Cub skeptical. I’m not afraid to admit I’m something of a snob about the genre, and not always in a good way. In my defense, the very first thing I learned about Super Cub was that it was sponsored by Honda. A “Super Cub”, as both we and protagonist Koguma quickly learn, is a sort of motorbike. Models have been consistently produced for 50-some years, and as more than one character goes over, they’re widely liked and appreciated even outside of Japan itself. Super Cub riding is a hobby in its own right, and if you’re already part of the Cult of the Cub you probably won’t need more convincing to watch this anime.

But, just speaking personally, it’s Koguma herself who won me over. Super Cub has a fascinating little trick that it uses to indirectly convey her mood; the show’s color saturation is directly tied to it. When we meet her at the start of the first episode, she is visibly extremely depressed. She lives alone, apparently abandoned by her parents. With, as she puts it, no hobbies, and very little money. The colors are, for most of the episode, muted and grayed. When a generous old shop proprietor sells her the titular used scooter, the simple feeling of sitting on it literally lights her world up, and the colors bloom into full saturation. It’s a wonderful technique, and it’s one the show uses enough times to fairly call it a signature. For the still-young Studio KAI, it’s a promising visual showing.

Also of note is Reiko, to whom Koguma is extremely married.

Super Cub, like any good story about vehicles, knows that it’s not really about the vehicles. They’re about the freedom and liberation that comes with being able to go where you want with very few limits. Koguma’s story is one of a girl breaking out of her shell with the help of her new hobby, it’s a tale as old as the medium itself. And its best episodes and moments tend to reflect this. Things as mundane as trips to an unfamiliar grocery store, or, later on, an unplanned highway trip, can be magical in the right context. This understanding bleeds into the series’ very aesthetic. Both its soundtrack, which is excellent, and its tour of Japan’s vistas, most exemplified by the road trip in the final episode. It is in this context, with this understanding of its appeal, that Super Cub truly shines.

But it doesn’t always shine, unfortunately. In less impressive moments, it does have the misfortune of feeling like an ad. Which, in its defense, it sort of is. There is fun hobby talk; the sort that tells us as much about the characters as it does about what they’re discussing, and there is dull hobby talk. For Super Cub, this manifests as occasionally becoming dangerously close to replicating the feeling of loitering around an AutoZone. The line between the two is razor thin and Super Cub sometimes crosses it and back again multiple times within the span of a single conversation. It’s believable that a teenager might want to squeeze more power out of their motorbike. A teenager complaining about “environmental regulations” that lead to less powerful engines, as Reiko does at one point, is less so.

It doesn’t cut Super Cub‘s engine, thankfully, but it does occasionally make it feel more corporate than cozy, which is unfortunate. It is the show’s only real weakness, but it’s a notable one.

But, conversely, even at its comparative lowest, Super Cub is simply too odd and too thoughtful to really write off. Weird asides like the character Shii’s family of europhiles, Reiko’s attempts to conquer Mt. Fuji, and so on, prevent the shop talk from ever overtaking the core narrative. Koguma herself, too, develops into something of a snarky, playful type, at least in the presence of friends, over the course of the series. A notable progression from her status as a near-silent protagonist in the opening episodes of the show.

It also picks up something of a dramatic streak in its final few episodes. If the more serious turns here don’t entirely fit the series like a glove, they do reinvigorate it through its final stretch. Koguma’s broadly philosophical musings on her relationship with Shii, the series’ own use of different vehicles as metaphors for moving through life at different “speeds”, and the eventual use of Spring as both a literal coming change and a proverbial “light at the end of the tunnel” all tie together wonderfully. Flaws and all, Super Cub cannot be said to have its heart anywhere but the right place.

So if it’s a rocky journey, it’s still a worthwhile one. It seems doubtful that Super Cub will ever rock anyone’s world, but it’s not trying to and doesn’t need to. All it’s trying to do is offer a small comfort in the harsh times we live in. Koguma closes the series by musing that a Cub is not some kind of magical do-it-all machine. The desire to turn an unfamiliar corner must come from within. All told, that is a pretty satisfying note for such an unassuming series to end on. And hey, if it can sell you a bike too, all the better.


If you like my work, consider following me on Twitter, supporting me on Ko-Fi, or checking out my other anime-related work on Anilist or for The Geek Girl Authority.

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.