Tag: first impressions

Posted on in anime, Seasonal Impression Roundups

Seasonal First Impressions: PRINCESS CONNECT RE:DIVE SEASON 2 Arrives with a Delicious Second Course

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.

We’ve got something of a first for this blog on our hands with this one. Almost two years ago, I (very briefly) gave my impressions of the first season of Princess Connect Re:Dive. Now, here in 2022, we’re met with season 2. It both feels like far too much time has passed and almost none at all, but that’s the 2020’s for ya.

Season 1 was an out-of-nowhere hit. Far more than just a promotional tool for a then-languishing mobile game, Priconne had a real sense of lived-in coziness to its slice-of-life escapades. Toward the end of the season, when things took a turn for the somewhat more dramatic, it was able to cash in that goodwill and pull off one of the more surprising turns of 2020, hinting at a greater storyline lurking in the background behind all the warm character dynamics and JRPG fantasy aesthetics without losing sight of those merits. That’s a hard thing to pull off, and even if its second season were to totally tank, Priconne would deserve praise on that first season alone.

Thankfully, things seem to be pointing toward season 2 being just as good, if not better. The opening here is just spectacular, with a wide shot of the city that the Gourmet Guild call home that manages to instill it with a sense of genuine gravitas. Having a bespoke studio (CygamesPictures) certainly seems to have its benefits.

If you’ve forgotten the show’s central character dynamic, this first episode is quick to remind you. The curious and gentle Kokkoro (played by Miku Itou, a fairly prolific actress best known to readers of this blog as takt op. Destiny‘s Titan.) is handed a mysterious map that may or may not lead the way to a “legendary seasoning” called the Drops of the Sea. The bold and rambunctious Princess Pecorine (Mao Ichimichi, also widely traveled but probably best known as Iris from Fire Force.) declares that this is a journey the Gourmet Guild simply must embark on immediately.

The fussy and high-strung Karyl (Rika Tachibana, this seems to be her most well-known role.) objects to the prospect of leaving the warm and cozy guild home to go on what might well be a wild goose chase. She is shouted down by the other two reminding her that the guild motto is to seek all the world’s tasty foods. Our ostensible protagonist Yuuki (Atsushi Abe, the most tenured VA among Priconne’s main four, with roles going all the way back to a main role in 2007’s Shugo Chara!), as is his wont, just kind of rolls with the down-shouting. Outvoted 3-to-1, the Guild thus embark on a quest full of adventure and hijinks.

Incidentally, it’s immediately notable that Yuuki can actually speak full sentences now. I don’t remember him having developed (or rather, regained) that ability during the first season, but that might just be my memory reducing him to an always-blithely-smiling caricature who tosses a thumbs up and a grin at basically every situation. In fairness, he still fits that description here, he’s just marginally wordier now.

But lest anyone think that any part of this might mean that Princess Connect has lost its comedic instincts, rest assured that it very much hasn’t. There’s a fun gag here early on where Yuuki briefly seems to have tamed some of the wild-eyed monster wolves that menace adventurers in the area, only for them to basically shout “sike!” and bite him on the arm.

The show’s sense of wonder is intact too. Much of this episode takes place in a forest that looks like a coral reef, complete with fish that swim in the sky. It’s pretty cool! Even if it turns out to be inhabited by fuzzy, poisonous mouth monsters.

The sheer amount of pure fun even in this first episode is pretty astounding. Along their quest, the Gourmet Guild help the ghost of an old adventurer move on into the next life and fly through the night sky in what looks like an ornithopter made of big leaves, straight into the eye of a storm. All of these would be large, multi-episode arcs for most anime, but Princess Connect is able to squeeze it all in its first episode back without it feeling strained. This is the rare half hour slot anime episode that feels twice its length in a good way. A lot happens.

All this to say, there’s really not anyone else doing fantasy adventure anime the way that Priconne is these days, in spite–or perhaps because of–its comedic bent. Yeah, their quest ends with something of an anticlimax (it turns out that they can’t get Drops of the Sea, normally shed by egg-laying giant sea turtles, because the only such turtle they can find is male. Whoops!) but the show’s whole point is that it’s the journey, not the destination. And if you don’t pick up on that yourself, the aforementioned ghost is more than happy to pontificate about it. It’s maybe the only scene in the entire episode that could use a little tightening up, but on the other hand, hasn’t Priconne earned a little self-indulgence? The time we spend with those we love is what’s truly important, and that’s a wonderful thesis for one of 2022’s most anticipated return shows to open on.

I’ve yet to decide on the second anime I’m going to be covering weekly for the winter 2022 season, but regardless of how it shows up, Princess Connect will be on this blog again. There are many more adventures with the Gourmet Guild ahead.

Grade: A+
The Takeaway: If you’re reading this, you’re probably already familiar with the Priconne IP. There’s literally no reason to not pick this up, if that’s the case. If you haven’t seen the first season, get on that! There’s plenty of time left to catch up and watch some of season 2 while it’s still airing.

Wanna talk to other Magic Planet Anime readers? Consider joining my Discord server! Also consider following me on Twitter and supporting me on Ko-Fi or Patreon. If you want to read more of my work, consider heading over to the Directory to browse by category.

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

Posted on in anime, Seasonal Impression Roundups

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What the fuck.

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

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

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

Grade: Sixth
The Takeaway: ???

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

Wanna talk to other Magic Planet Anime readers? Consider joining my Discord server! Also consider following me on Twitter and supporting me on Ko-Fi or Patreon. If you want to read more of my work, consider heading over to the Directory to browse by category.

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

Posted on in anime, Seasonal Impression Roundups

Seasonal First Impressions: Everything is Right on CUE!

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

I went into CUE! extremely skeptical.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Also: Shippers eat your heart out.

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

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

In any case, keep an eye on this one.

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

Wanna talk to other Magic Planet Anime readers? Consider joining my Discord server! Also consider following me on Twitter and supporting me on Ko-Fi or Patreon. If you want to read more of my work, consider heading over to the Directory to browse by category.

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

Posted on in anime, Seasonal Impression Roundups

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wanna talk to other Magic Planet Anime readers? Consider joining my Discord server! Also consider following me on Twitter and supporting me on Ko-Fi or Patreon. If you want to read more of my work, consider heading over to the Directory to browse by category.

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

Posted on in anime, Seasonal Impression Roundups

Seasonal First Impressions: POLICE IN A POD is Comedic Homicide

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sigh.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wanna talk to other Magic Planet Anime readers? Consider joining my Discord server! Also consider following me on Twitter and supporting me on Ko-Fi or Patreon. If you want to read more of my work, consider heading over to the Directory to browse by category.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Also: who the hell was this?

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

Wanna talk to other Magic Planet Anime readers? Consider joining my Discord server! Also consider following me on Twitter and supporting me on Ko-Fi or Patreon. If you want to read more of my work, consider heading over to the Directory to browse by category.

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

Posted on in anime, Seasonal Impression Roundups

Seasonal First Impressions: The Beautiful Bloom of KOMI CAN’T COMMUNICATE

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.

“Do you have a dream, Komi?”
“My dream is to make 100 friends….please don’t laugh.”
“Then I’ll be your first friend, and help you make the rest.”

I didn’t actually intend to write more of these for this season, but sometimes things have a way of surprising you.

Komi Can’t Communicate was not something I intended to pick up. I didn’t even really intend to watch the premiere. To tell you the gods’ honest truth, I don’t really like the original manga all that much. I know! It’s widely-liked, by enough people that it’s the sort of thing where I’ve just accepted that I’m firmly in the minority. I followed it for a few months when it was relatively new, and it just never inspired any strong feelings in me. I had some things I kinda liked about it, some things I kinda didn’t like, but on the whole it didn’t move me. I didn’t get the hype. But I started hearing things about the anime; positive things. Things that were so positive that I felt like I just wouldn’t be doing my job if I felt like I didn’t at least look into it. And good lord, what a difference a change of medium can make.

On paper, Komi Can’t Communicate shouldn’t really work as an anime. This is a series whose primary character dynamic hinges almost entirely on talking. No, not talking; non-verbal communication. It’s a bit of a challenge to make that visually interesting. And indeed, while the manga itself certainly has nice art, I wouldn’t say it’s terribly visually dynamic. That can be a real problem in motion! So how did Komi‘s team overcome it? Well, in a way, the answer is very simple.

They turned in one of the best productions of the entire year.

Komi Can’t Communicate is gorgeous. (Enough so in motion that it’s actually rather hard to capture its appeal in still screenshots.) Its only real competition this season is takt op.Destiny, from which it is stylistically whole universes away. But while takt op is bone-cracking action and melodramatic camp, Komi Can’t Communicate zeroes in on the warmth of youth, even when it’s being funny. It’s a feeling I associate more with films like Words Bubble Up Like Soda Pop than I do TV anime. That’s not to say that Komi is particularly serious–it’s a fairly straightforward and lighthearted show–but it’s straightforward and lighthearted while looking utterly beautiful. This is the sort of thing that even those wholly uninterested in its plot can watch for visuals alone. There’re loads of clever little tricks in here; cut-ins, overlaid text, subtle art style shifts, etc. Some of these are inherited from the manga, but even those simply look way better here. This is a truly rare elevation of the source material, and I think even those who love the manga will agree with that.

This shot is from the OP, which is an instantly-iconic, sun-drenched piece of loveliness.

Its actual plot is so basic that it barely warrants summarizing. What do you want me to say? Boy meets girl! This is simple stuff. But Shouko Komi herself (our female lead) is an interesting character. As the title implies, she has what is colloquially known in Japan as a “communication disorder”. This to say: she cannot talk to people. Her case seems to be particularly bad. Over the course of the first episode, actress Aoi Koga (who recently made a name for herself as the title character in Kaguya-sama: Love is War!), doesn’t say a single actual word. Her vocal consists of flustered stuttering. That’s it.

But as the narration helpfully (and truthfully!) points out, people who have these kinds of difficulties do not crave human contact any less than anyone else. Komi still badly wants friends, but her anxiety is such an issue that she can’t bring herself to even say things as simple as morning greetings to anybody. Worse; all this, combined with her general appearance, has convinced most that she is an archetypal “cool beauty”, rather than a kind, gentle girl who deeply, simply wants to have friends and live a normal life.

That’s where our other lead comes in. Hitohito Tadano is an astoundingly average fellow, aside from his odd (but quite cute) habit of wearing a flower in his hair. The only “skill” of any kind that Tadano brings to the table is that it’s he who first recognizes Komi’s true nature. So, they get to talking. Or rather, to writing, as he comes up with the idea that using the classroom chalkboard while they happen to be alone between classes might be less anxiety-inducing than actually speaking aloud. By coincidence or by competence, he hits on the right idea, and the episode’s entire middle third is the two getting to know each other through a sprawling correspondence of chalk. This was cute in the manga. Here, it’s enrapturing, it pulls you in. For a few minutes, these two teenagers getting to know each other seems like the most important thing in the world.

Eventually, they come around to the exchange quoted at the top of this article. Things take a turn for the more comedic not long afterward, as the narration reminds us that the high school in which Komi Can’t Communicate is set is full of wild, wacky characters. (In the manga, I remember this kind of being a turn-off for me. I suppose we’ll see how it’s handled here.) So perhaps Tadano’s got more than he bargained for, but one gets the sense that he’d be okay with it if he knew. And that’s really the key thing; what makes a romance anime work is that we the audience have to believe that these two characters are interested in each other on a fairly deep level. Komi Can’t Communicate‘s first episode proves it with a startlingly clear, rosy, warm portrait of two young people who simply happened to be there for each other at the right time. For whom that simple serendipity will likely develop into much more. What else could you ask for? Komi and Tadano both get a little less lonely. The world gets a little brighter.

Grade: A+
The Takeaway: Komi Can’t Communicate stands as the season’s second truly essential anime. If you’re interested in romance anime as a genre or seasonal anime as a format, you should check this out.

Wanna talk to other Magic Planet Anime readers? Consider joining my Discord server! Also consider following me on Twitter and supporting me on Ko-Fi or Patreon. If you want to read more of my work, consider heading over to the Directory to browse by category.

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

Posted on in anime, Seasonal Impression Roundups

Seasonal First Impressions: BUILD DIVIDE: CODE BLACK Deals its First Hand Face-Down

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.

You would have to be a very specific kind of person to prioritize watching Build Divide: Code Black over most of what’s airing this season.

The very first thing to know is this. Build Divide is based on a trading card game. The second thing to know is that said game appears to be paper-only. (I cursorily googled to try to find a digital client, official or otherwise, and had no luck.) The third thing to know is that this anime is produced by the famously spotty LIDEN FILMS, who seem to have picked up a weird habit of working on things with “Code Black” as a subtitle, following their excursion into Cells At Work: Code Black earlier this year.

So right off the top; you must ask yourself if you want to watch a decent but certainly not amazing-looking anime for a card game that you’re probably, just speaking statistically, never going to get to play. Oh, and it’s two cours. That’s a lot to ask upfront. There are a number of anime airing right now, both better and worse than this, that simply don’t demand you to care about quite this many things. To put it in video game critic journalist terms, I would not say that Build Divide: Code Black “respects your time.” Just from a practical point of view, no matter how good or bad the series up being, that is a pretty hefty disadvantage to have to overcome.

Normally I’d here segue into telling you what the show is actually is about, but the plot details we get here are hilariously sparse. Beating the local big kahuna at a card game lets you get a wish granted. Our female lead (Sakura Banka) has a wish she wants granted. Our male lead (Teruto Kurabe) doesn’t but is preternaturally good at TCGs. Also he has amnesia. There’s your plot beats, all of them, as laid out in the anime’s first 20-odd minutes. So we can safely toss this into the “ignore” pile, right?

Well, for many people, probably. The issue, at least for me, with writing Build Divide off is that while the first episode certainly didn’t wow me the way some have this season, it did leave an impression. Make no mistake; this is a very weird show, at least when measured against the general seasonal anime cycle.

With very few exceptions all the cards are represented by anime girls, by the way. If you were curious.

The obvious thing to try to do when your anime is based on a TCG is to have one character explain the basic rules concepts to another. If you don’t do that, you’re generally in subversive, dark-take-on-the-genre territory, and there aren’t a lot of anime that fit that bill. (I challenge anyone to name one that isn’t Wixoss.) So what do we make of what Build Divide does, where the rules are explained, but only very generally and briefly, to Teruto by Sakura? Halfway through their obligatory match in this episode, Teruto’s amnesia begins to crack and the entire thing turns into a long chain of complicated effect combos. Some of it is quite neat to look at, certainly, but there is no way that we, the audience, could possibly have any context for this.

Is that incompetence? Is it on purpose? If so, why? The odd writing applies to the entire episode, but is most obvious here, where the cliché plot beats of this sort of episode are reduced to almost impressionistic abstraction despite the workaday visual style. There’s a lot of cool imagery, including a recurring casino motif, and the episode is visually-speaking oddly moody in spots, taking place as it does entirely at night. There’s also the random aside where we learn that the cards of the game can somehow be used “outside of battle” to….cast spells, essentially? But none of this seems to really convey anything. It’s very hard to know if Build Divide knows what it’s doing.

And what do we make of Teruto himself? It’s not rare for this kind of thing to feature a protagonist who is, sometimes literally supernaturally, Just That Good at card games. Putting him in an admittedly stylish but still very peculiar bunny hoodie is a less common step, to say the least. Maybe this is how the Build Divide franchise plans to challenge Yu-Gi-Oh! By swapping gaudy hairstyles for weird hoodies. Oh, and he has a strange obsession with bread. Which includes at one point praying for a bear-shaped pastry that fell on the floor because it’s “dead.”

Maybe this is the season where writers finally learn that the way to make your stock brown-haired lead interesting is to just make him a total weirdo.

If it sounds like I just have no idea what to make of this series so far, it’s because I don’t. Build Divide: Code Black just doesn’t give us enough to go on. It’s a question mark both within its genre–a genre that itself is generally more associated with children’s anime, which this solidly isn’t–and within the broader season at large. It’s certainly interesting, but whether or not it will live up to its potential is a question that it is far too early to answer.

Grade: 6♦
The Takeaway: Look, on this one specifically you probably shouldn’t listen to me. I don’t even know if I’m going to watch more of it or not.

Wanna talk to other Magic Planet Anime readers? Consider joining my Discord server! Also consider following me on Twitter and supporting me on Ko-Fi or Patreon. If you want to read more of my work, consider heading over to the Directory to browse by category.

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

Posted on in anime, Seasonal Impression Roundups

Seasonal First Impressions: TAKT OP.DESTINY is The Season’s First Must-Watch

Seasonal First Impressions is a column where I detail my thoughts, however brief or long, about a currently-airing anime’s first episode or so. GIFs in this article appear courtesy of Sakugabooru.

It starts with a “once upon a time” and ends on a moonlit stretch of highway. In-between? Pleas for human connection scrawled on pianos, mask-wearing monsters that take the shape of apes and giant insects, switched-off jukeboxes that populate lonely diners, and the Great American West stretching into an endless horizon. Welcome to a world without music and the story of those trying to bring it back. This is takt op.Destiny.

Can I level with you, readers? I don’t get to write things like that paragraph up there often enough. In pop cultural criticism you’re generally expected to get to the point. I have no problem with getting to the point, but it’s a truly rare treat to be able to put the long and short of it in the title. You need to watch takt. op Destiny if you have even the slightest interest in following seasonal anime. The End.

But of course you probably want to hear why, and that’s fair enough. But it’s hard to know where to start when everything about a series’ first episode clicks into place this well. Do we start with the impactful, engaging animation? It defines not only the episode’s two bone-crackingly excellent fight scenes but also numerous little fun character moments too plentiful to count. The visuals in general are just gorgeous.

Shot through the heart, and you’re to blame.

Maybe the worldbuilding? The tantalizing glimpses of the backstory we get here are intriguing; built on the backs of typical tropes but presented with enough style that they feel fresh. One night long ago mystical stones rained from the sky and brought the humanoid weapons known as Musicarts to the world. Another night, long after that, another shower of stones brought a great evil. Somewhere in here there are the music-hating D2s, monsters that hunt down and snuff out music wherever they hear it. This world’s silence is the presumable wake of their actions.

In the sky, with diamonds.

What about the character writing? What initially seems like it might be the bud of a tedious harem setup quickly proves itself to be a fun dynamic I might compare to a trio of siblings who don’t quite get along. Takt, our eponymous lead, is no mere audience stand-in, he’s a music-obsessed weirdo. He’s mother-fucking funny.

I wish you would step back from that ledge my friend.

Cossette, his Musicart companion, is a wonderful little gremlinoid who treats the humans she’s supposed to protect (including Takt) with a vague disdain and cares more about stuffing her mouth with food and killing as many D2s as possible than she does anything else.

Sugar sugar, oh honey honey.

And finally there’s Anna, the put-upon responsible “oldest sister” of the three, in at least a figurative sense. She spends most of the episode either chest-puffingly exasperated with the other two’s antics, or driving her car to and fro to get them out of trouble.

The three just work together to a rare degree. On their own, any one of these would be an alright character. In concert, they’re a riot. It’s a wonderful thing to watch all this unfold.

Takt’s first action in the episode is to park himself at an abandoned piano. An object evidently so unfamiliar to the general populace of the town he’s in that the younger kids present don’t actually know what it is. As he begins playing, conjuring a wonderful, warm cloud of ivory tones, a D2 is summoned by the sound and comes running. We meet Cossette seconds later, who enters the series by drop-kicking the masked gorilla demon dead in the face. Takt then explodes his arm into rose petals, in one of the most wonderfully camp touches I’ve ever seen in anything, which somehow allows Cossette to assume a more powerful, magical girl-esque form. She tosses Takt a baton. He “conducts”, which, through whatever means, allows Cossette to produce a sword that also has a laser cannon in it, which she uses to shoot the D2 dead.

This is all, it should go without further saying, ridiculous, awesome, campy, silly, and wonderful. The entire sequence is the platonic ideal of action anime as a genre boiled down to sixty seconds of perfection.

I will avoid recapping the remainder of the episode in detail. The specifics we get are pretty minimal; our characters are headed to New York, there’s interesting little bits of backstory speckled throughout.

You say New York, New York is dangerous.

But the main focus remains on the spectacle, because as pure spectacle, it doesn’t get much better than this.

Will it ever transcend pure spectacle? That’s the natural question that some may pose as a follow-up. And I do think it’s a valid one, but, at the risk of sounding reductionist, when there is this much sheer, obvious joy in the art, I am not sure there is much to transcend. Beyond even that argument, though, there really is something to the presented idea of art as a necessary salve in a world that has lost its appreciation for it. Whether takt op.Destiny will ever explore that is another question, but I certainly hope it does. Perhaps I’m over-optimistic, but this feels like the start of something big.

Grade: A+
The Takeaway: If you have any interest in following action anime as a genre or seasonal anime as a format, you should be watching this.

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.