Lego’s Monkie Kid Draws on the Past in More Ways than the Obvious

What if there was a sequel to Journey to the West, the story of Sun Wukong the Monkey King, and it was set in the near future? And what if all the characters were Lego people? That’s the basic premise of Lego Monkie Kid, an Asia-focused media franchise featuring toys, a cartoon, and more. I first noticed Monkie Kid thanks to clips on YouTube, and found myself impressed by the surprising quality of its animation. I recently got the chance to watch the actual series, and find it to be a kids show that, while modern, is also reminiscent of action cartoons from decades past.

The premise of Monkie Kid is that a noodle delivery boy named MK discovers the legendary staff of the Monkey King and becomes his successor. Now, he must fight against the now-freed Demon Bull King, who was originally imprisoned by Wukong himself, with the help of a close group of friends.

One of the first works that Monkie Kid reminded me of was American Dragon Jake Long, and not simply because of the connections to Chinese culture. Rather, MK is a very similar character to Jake, from his impetuous nature to his constant use of “hip and popular” vernacular. That said, while Jake’s use of slang could get obnoxious (something the show runners on Jake Long noticed and dialed back in its second season), I find this isn’t really the case with MK.

Another cartoon that came to mind was Thundercats, and with it all the 1980s action cartoons of that variety. Specifically, in the storyline, the Demon Bull King is weakened after his revival, and is forced to rely on cybernetics that are powered by artifacts. Items of sufficient rarity (from ancient treasures to exclusive sneaker drops) can restore him to his former might, but only temporarily. This kind of Mumm-Ra/Silverhawks MonStar villain hasn’t really been a thing for a very long time, which makes Monkie Kid’s decision to include such a gimmick oddly nostalgic for someone my age.

The approach to storytelling is mostly episodic (as opposed to outright serial) and full of toy-shilling antics, but it does build towards major events here and there while featuring actual character growth along the way. Again, I liken it to 80s fare wherein a few episodes and a season finale are more focused on the overarching plot, and the results are usually pretty satisfying if one doesn’t mind this format. One big edge Monkie Kid has, however, is that it doesn’t feel as aimless as Thundercats or He-Man, and even displays shades of Avatar: The Last Airbender in the way it gradually turns into a grander and more epic story. 

It’s also obvious that the show creators are more than aware of Avatar when Monkie Kid throws in gag references to Aang’s spinny hand trick. In fact, this is just one of many shout-outs to past animated works.

There’s one fun detail about Monkie Kid that I think is worth mentioning: The casting choice for the Monkey King. In English, he’s actually voiced by Sean Schemmel, the current dub voice of Goku from Dragon Ball Z—in other words, a guy famous for playing a Sun Wukong derivative is voicing the original! And then in the Cantonese and Taiwanese Mandarin versions, the role is performed by Dicky Cheung, a Hong Kong actor who rose to fame portraying the Monkey King in the popular and beloved 1996 Journey to the West TV series!

(He also sang the openings for those versions too.)

Overall, Monkie Kid is a children’s cartoon with real legs. Though it may be based on Legos, and it’s not the most sophisticated thing, there is an undeniably high quality to the whole thing. It’s one of those works where the creators definitely did not need to go this hard, but they chose to elevate their project into something greater. I come out of this now curious to watch whatever comes next, and maybe try to finally read Journey to the West.

New Frontiers with Old Lessons: Hololive Advent and ReGLOSS

The past few months of Hololive have been one major event after the next, and among the biggest were the debut of not one, but two new Virtual Youtuber groups. First was Holo Advent at the end of July, the newest English generation in two long years. Then in September came ReGLOSS, who seem to be the vanguards of an entirely new division. Both groups have now had a bit of time to establish themselves, and they seem to reflect two very different approaches: refinement based on past experience vs. taking an experimental direction that’s a mix of old and new.

Holo Advent

While “lore” and “backstory” matter less and less over time, they are part of the initial impression a VTuber makes and can help to solidify their image in the eyes of fans. And when it comes to the English branch of Hololive, their parent company COVER Corp. chose to make things elaborate. Unlike the relatively simple princesses, idols, and devils of the Japanese branch, the first generation (known as Holo Myth) debuted with an ancient Atlantean shark, a grim reaper, a warrior phoenix, an Eldritch priestess, and a time traveling detective. 

Due to circumstances of timing (a global pandemic) and their own abilities, Myth are the most successful generation of Hololive—and possibly any VTuber group—ever. Their follow-ups, Project Hope and Holo Council, went even bigger by being the representatives and embodiments of abstract concepts: hope, of course, but then also a celestial governing body of space, time, nature, civilization, and chaos. While all of them have turned out to be popular and entertaining individuals, I think the grandiose nature of their lore can be a burden on the girls themselves. It can weigh the VTubers down just as much as it can elevate them, and often the streamers give this facet of their characters only basic lip service.

I believe that knowing how to avoid that awkwardness is the lesson taken from the past two English generations, and I see this in how Advent strikes a middle ground between them. Like Council, they have a group concept unifying them: The members of Advent are all runaway prisoners who were locked away due to their forbidden powers but staged an escape together. However, their individual backstories are all more detailed than Myth yet less so than Council. Shiori Novella is an archiver whose pursuit of knowledge gave her access to the forbidden. Koseki Bijou is a sentient jewel who inadvertently drives avarice. Nerissa Ravencroft is a demon not unlike a siren. Fuwawa and Mococo Abyssgard are twin demon guard dogs locked away for being huge pains.

In practice, this specific level of lore allows them to play into their core characters without having to devote too much of themselves to keep up an act. Shiori encourages creative works and accumulation of interesting stories. Bijou makes rock jokes on the regular. Nerissa sings beautifully. FuwaMoco talk in cute dog voices and bark on occasion. They don’t have to, for example, express primordial chaos. In pro wrestling terms, Advent’s gimmicks are starting points that they can choose to learn into or not without feeling like they’re overdoing or underdoing it.

ReGLOSS

If Advent is a product of calibration and finding a nice lore sweet spot that is neither too sparse or too burdensome, then ReGLOSS takes a far different angle. Like Advent they number five in total, but all of them are supposed to be just regular human girls—not reincarnations or half-wombat people or anything—albeit eccentric in their own ways. Hiodoshi Ao is a handsome manga artist who is now a VTuber to help with new story ideas. Otonose Kanade is an aspiring musician with a penchant for bad puns. Ichijou Ririka is a young gal CEO who loves survival puzzles. Juufuutei Raden is a saucy rakugo performer with a fondness for drinking and smoking. Todoroki Hajime is a short-statured, pastel banchou (delinquent boss) who loves dance and fashion. 

These five have joined together to make music, but what’s funny about this is that most of them are not practiced musicians. A couple have confessed that singing is still awkward to them, and they don’t have the trained vocals of many of their senpai. While there have been Hololive members who start off lacking in this department, there is typically the expectation that they’ll grow at their own pace and fans will love their ability or evenlack thereof. In contrast, ReGLOSS debuted with their own generational song from the get-go.

However, this plays very much into a familiar aspect of Japanese idol culture. Unlike K-Pop, which prefers to unleash its stars when they’re already fantastic, part of the enduring appeal of idol culture is seeing the performers grow. That quality permeates Hololive both naturally and by intent, but it’s never been this concentrated. That said, it’s notable how, while they’re mostly not singers by default, they have other skills and interests they can fall back on. For example, Raden does fine art history talks and Ao did an entire stream about the bullet journal system.

The most unusual thing about ReGLOSS is arguably that they are also the first to be part of a division called holoDEV_IS (pronounced “Holo-dev-ice”), whose true purpose is still unclear. Is it an attempted inroad to other areas of entertainment? Not much is known.

Room to Explore

With any sort of new iteration, there will be those who want something comfortably familiar. Likewise, there will also be those who want something new and exciting. What I think has helped make Hololive such a big player in the world of VTubing is their willingness to provide both while understanding that there is more than one type of success—big numbers alone don’t tell the whole story. Advent and ReGLOSS are indicative of this philosophy, and as they continue forward, I will enjoy seeing all their members carve out their own fanbases and finding people who appreciate them.

Reminiscing About Right Stuf in Its Final Days

In August 2022, the online anime and manga store Right Stuf was sold to the massive anime streaming and licensing company Crunchyroll. Now, Right Stuf has announced that it will cease to exist and its contents will be integrated into the Crunchyroll Store as of October 10. With that comes what I (and apparently many others) believe is the end of an era. I haven’t felt quite this way since Geocities closed.

I first learned about Right Stuf Anime around 2005 or 2006, and have been a frequent customer ever since my first order: Eureka Seven DVD Volume 1. At a time when I didn’t have much disposable income, the sales they had on the regular were a great way to get more for less. Those sales were often based around a single anime or manga publisher, so it also became a practical method for familiarizing oneself with what a particular company had to offer. Although my memory is hazy, they might very well have been the first site I bought anime online from (It was either them or Deep Discount DVD).

Right Stuf didn’t always necessarily offer the absolute best deals. For example, in the time it existed, Amazon grew into an even bigger juggernaut of online retail. It wasn’t uncommon for items on Amazon to be better priced, but I stuck almost entirely to purchasing on Right Stuf because the company showed a lot of care for its products in so many ways. You almost never had to worry about damaged packaging, and they even went out of their way to eliminate the use of plastic and make it more environmentally sustainable. If you bought an item the day before it was part of a sale, you could email them and request the order be revised. And at the end of the day, the sales were still really good. 

Not everything was rainbows, of course. I once had a package go missing and had to jump through a ton of hoops—including filing a police report—but the positives outstripped the negatives by a country mile.

Another strength was that the company always maintained something of an old school feel. A lot of the American anime culture over the past 15 years or so has been to incorporate more and more aspects of general geek fandom/media, and while those things are great, they can often overshadow the anime and manga aspects. The fact that Right Stuf was still dedicated primarily to Japanese pop culture after all these years (while still incorporating that more general fandom) was something I really appreciated. 

I’m definitely concerned that without the Right Stuf brand and the weight of the customer expectations its fans expected, the savings just won’t be the same. I’ve looked at the Crunchyroll Store, and while I won’t knock them for providing merch in an easily accessible fashion, I never once thought of buying from there as long as Right Stuf existed. And even though I’m in a far different place in life compared to 2006, I know that’s not the case for everyone—especially younger anime fans (at least those who care about physical media) who’ve had to deal with things like a terrible economy wrought by a once-in-a-generation life-changing pandemic. And I just don’t expect the Crunchyroll Store to provide that more personal touch Right Stuf had.

Crunchyroll could surprise me. They could maintain a lot of what Right Stuf did, well, right. But the fact that they’re even shelving the Right Stuf name does not bode well in my view. I might give them a chance, but a chance is all they get. With Right Stuf, what I had was trust and faith.

Thumbs Up to the Fall Lineup: Ogiue Maniax Status Update for October 2023

The start of October means a new anime season, and there’s a lot of new shows I’m looking forward to. My main concern is having enough time for all of them. We’ve got manga adaptations I’m looking forward to like Shy, MF Ghost, Under Ninja, Migi and Dali, and Firefighter Daigo: Rescuer in Orange. Then there’s not one but two rap/hip hop battle shows in Hypnosis Mic season 2 and Paradox Live. And then Otona no Precure, the first sequel to feature past Precures as adults! For those who might be feeling tired of isekai, I think this season is gonna be one to remember—and even if you love isekai a ton, there’s still plenty to go around.

Thank you to my October Patreon subscribers below!

General:

Ko Ransom

Diogo Prado

Alex

Dsy

Sue Hopkins fans:

Serxeid

Hato Kenjirou fans:

Elizabeth

Yajima Mirei fans:

Machi-Kurada

Blog highlights from September:

Gattai Girls 14: “Sakura Wars” and Shinguji Sakura

Continuing my series of reviews of mecha heroine anime.

Boy Meets Girl Meets Tick-Throw Spinning Piledriver: Hi Score Girl

My complete review of one of the best nerd romances ever.

Hololive’s ReGLOSS Features Refreshingly Simple Character Designs

A new generation of Japanese Hololive members brings some designs that buck the trend

Kio Shimoku

There was a Genshiken pop-up store event in Japan!

Closing

COVID’s on the rise again. I hope everyone can stay safe.

Kio Shimoku Twitter Highlights September 2023

This month, Kio Shimoku posted more Genshiken art, and we saw the opening of Genshiken pop-up shops across Japan! Yes, there’s even Ogiue merch!

Kio had a good deal of trouble finding this Engage SR3 model kit from The Five Star Stories, but then managed to order and receive it.

Having trouble with a turtle in Elden Ring.

More pages from Sister Wars, Kio’s genderbending The Phantom Menace parody. With that, Chapter 1 is done.

Kio kind of wings it with the color, but thinks that the work wouldn’t be that different even in B&W. Kio likes the color palette in Star Wars in general.

Amidala-kun.

Kio also uploaded Sister Wars Chapter 1 to Pixiv.

Kio went to an Azuma Kiyohiko Yotsuba&! exhibit at the Tokiwa-sou museum.

Kio is especially flabbergasted by how Azuma managed to do this panel.

Kio mentions that this Jedi is not to be confused with this girl from Kio’s 18+ doujinshi. However, he realizes that he might have certain preferences when the characters he came up with in 2010 and 2022 are so similar.

Ogiue and Ohno might technically fall under this category too. Kio includes an old drawing of Ohno cosplaying Leina from Queen’s Blade and asking Ogiue to cosplay as Leina’s little sister Elina. This is a voice actor joke because the original Ohno (Kawasumi Ayako) voiced Leina and the original Ogiue (Mizuhashi Kaori) voiced Elina.

After seeing a weather report that the temperature is going to be 35 degrees C (95 degrees F) after a typhoon, Kio is reminded of a line about becoming accustomed to torture.

It’s in the nature of manga artists to want to make efficiently beautiful manuscripts. The shorter, the better.

Kio got through 70 pages of his eromanga manuscript, but then wasn’t sure of a certain part and ultimately decided to put in twice as much effort and drew the whole thing.

In response to the passing of Terasawa Buichi (author of Space Adventure Cobra), Kio describes Cobra as an accumulated mass of sense. (That sense seems to mean like an artistic/aesthetic/creative sense.)

Kio buys a doujinshi by manga artist Kusada, who released it at the originals doujin event Comitia.

Kio took a lot at the author Shima Tokio’s 18+ doujinshi, and was not only surprised at a development that happens in the middle, but that Shima would have the time to draw this on top of working on a serialized manga.

Kio purchased a doujinshi by the artist Kusada called Sister vs. Chupacabra. He likes how there’s tsukkomi after tsukkomi in it.

Kio is thanked by the author Ichihara Hikari Z for preordering their manga, Seishun Libido Yama.

Kio opened Twitter for the first time in a while. He couldn’t keep up with the timeline, so he’s decided to give up and go to bed.

Kio read a comic drawn by Nagata Reiji, a person who left being a surgeon to become a manga artist, about that very experience. Nagata was apparently also serialized in Afternoon, and Kio decided to buy one of his manga.

Kio has been meaning to tweet about the Genshiken pop-up shop at all TSUTAYA stores (that began on September 22nd) but kept forgetting to do so. (Check out the replies as well for lots of Kio thanking very excited fans.)

High-resolution art of the school swimsuit Ogiue on the limited edition Volume 6 of Genshiken. [If you’re wondering if I own it, the answer is yes.]

Kio retweeted Koume Keito’s art for Wandjina in Fate/Grand Order. (Koume was the artist on the Kujibiki Unbalance manga.)

A tweet about the start of the Genshiken pop-up shop event, with Kio retweeting and responding to various photos taken by fans of the displays, including those lamenting items being sold out.

Kio’s own purchases from the pop-up shop. He got a full Madarame set.

The title page art for Genshiken Volume 6. (I seriously love this image.)

Something about starting from Nidaime/Second Generation (I’ll admit that this is a bit vague, and I’m not sure I fully understand this).

Some Genshiken Nidaime art from the 2012 Afternoon calendar.

Sue from the title page of Genshiken Volume 7.

Child Empowerment as Commodity and 1980s American Cartoons

The 1980s were a pivotal decade in American children’s television, when Ronald Reagan’s administration removed the rules against directly advertising to children. Things like He-Man, My Little Pony, and Thundercats are all a product of this barrier getting knocked down. There was a clear downside to this—it allowed greedy capitalist companies to have their way with young and impressionable minds—but I also distinctly remember loving the cartoons of the 80s (and 90s) because they felt like they spoke to me and my desires.

Compared to the even older cartoons of decades past that I’d see pop up on TV, there was so much more action. Characters from shows like Silverhawks, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, and Bionic Six just looked downright amazing in the mind’s eye of a young kid. I think what really stood out to me was the degree to which these shows felt like they understood what kids wanted, in contrast to programs that were concerned about what parents would think. Even with the requisite PSAs (e.g. GI Joe’s “Knowing Is Half the Battle”), what made these toy-centric cartoons feel so good was the irresponsibility. They allowed kids like me to live vicariously through them, with only the flimsiest of morals as pretext. Even today, their opening animations ooze such style and splendor that they represent the pinnacle of cool.

Of course, the reality is that what kids want isn’t necessarily what’s good for them, and companies were and are all too eager to exploit them for the sake of a bottom line. Children are not ignorant or imperceptive, but they’re also readily willing to eat ice cream for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Cartoons of the Reagan era definitely swung in that direction, and those who grew up on them and take their visual conventions and tropes for granted might not be aware how much their biases are influenced by this sustained marketing volley on our senses.

At the same time, shit was rad, and I’m glad I saw Rodimus Prime ask the Matrix of Leadership to “light our darkest hour.” How do you give kids that kind of empowerment without taking advantage of the plasticity of their minds?

I use the 80s as the main focus because of that prominent macho aesthetic, but what I’m also thinking about is the way getting attached to a specific era of animation can shape one’s perspective as to what is normal and interesting. Cartoons do not exist in a vacuum apart from the world at large, and both the creators and kids carry values that are often different in some way than their predecessors.

Ironically, diversity and championing civil rights is far more transgressive move than just letting kids imagine they could shoot lasers, but to those who grew up in the shadow of the 80s and 90s, the former can seem too much like the moralizing that made the previous decades’ cartoons feel boring.

The complaint that Disney doesn’t have “true bad guys” anymore also comes to mind. On some level, it makes sense: Evildoers like Jafar, Scar, Maleficent are iconic and bring a bit of an edge to the family-friendly works they come from. However, while these bad guys often possess a visceral darkness about them, the antagonistic forces of current Disney movies tackle more socially profound topics like generational trauma. The former chill the spine, while the latter bludgeon the gut, often feeling far more painful to those of us who can relate to the characters’ situations. But a certain type of person thinks it automatically worse if the villains aren’t, well, villainous. The lack of a clear-cut light vs. dark conflict can be disappointing to those who just want to see a foe vanquished.

I think all this is to say that sometimes it’s not just nostalgia that makes a period of art and entertainment feel special—there are actual differences influenced by the culture of the time and the people who contributed. But just because a period is special doesn’t mean it’s the be-all, end-all. We can find hot in the way 80s cartoons hit the mark aesthetically and inspired kids with that sense of cops-and-robbers awe, while also acknowledging that not everything was perfect. 

Killing Them Hard with Her Golf: “Birdie Wing: Golf Girls’ Story” Season 2

I don’t know if there’s a wrong side of ridiculousness, but I definitely know that Birdie Wing: Golf Girls’ Story is squarely on the right one. And with the series now finished, I wanted to do a review of Season 2 to wrap everything up.

(Warning: Season 1 Spoilers)

The plot of the first season is like something from a fever dream: An orphan girl named Eve participates in her country Nafrece’s illegal underground golf scene, where big money is on the line. One day, she encounters a Japanese girl destined to become her rival/romantic interest Amawashi Aoi. In order to fulfill their dream of truly playing against each other someday, Eve has to overcome all the crime lords involved through the power of her brute force approach to golf. During this time, the list of things that happen include: a rocket launcher assassination, an airship with a transforming golf course inside, and even a cyborg golfer. Eventually, Eve winds up in Japan and attends the same school as Aoi, an academy for people with dreams of going pro.

At the end of Season 1, we were left with a question of what kind of series Birdie Wing will be overall. It has so many components that it could lean just a little in any direction and become something wildly different. Now that Season 2 is done and the series is complete (for now), we have the answer: Birdie Wing is all about Maximum Drama, and it will use every tool in its arsenal to achieve this goal. These include: a disease that kills you if you play too much golf, convoluted family trees that boggle the mind, and special abilities passed down from mentors and long-lost figures from the past. What we have is not so much a sports anime or a drama, but a series that asks, “What if a soap opera had tournament arcs?”

I will give one small spoiler about Season 2: My prediction about them going into space to play golf never came true, despite the fact that “Amuro Ray” and “Char Aznable” essentially both exist in this anime. Nevertheless, it’s an enjoyable roller coaster all the way through, and how the series ends is actually brilliant in its own way. While I’m not going to say that Birdie Wing is perfect, or that it’s for everyone, I do believe that we need more anime of its kind in the world. 

Putting the “Origin” in Original: Shin Kamen Rider

When it comes to Anno Hideaki’s Shin Japan Heroes Universe movies, the meaning of that first word, Shin, is left ambiguous. Usually, depending on how it’s written in Japanese, shin can either mean “true” (as if whatever iteration we’re seeing is either an entity in its greatest and purest form) or “new” (a reimagining, a version yet unseen). After watching Shin Kamen Rider, it’s increasingly clear to me that it’s meant to be both, and maybe more.

Based primarily on the original 1971 Kamen RIder series, Shin Kamen Rider tells the story of Hongo Takeshi, a man captured by the organization SHOCKER and made into a part-bug living weapon. However, thanks to a sympathetic scientist, he manages to escape and he decides to fight against SHOCKER using his newfound powers and his strong sense of justice.

Seeing as how I’ve never even watched a single full series, I can’t call myself a big Kamen Rider fan or expert by any means. But when Shin Kamen Rider was first announced, I remembered something Anno said in an interview: He thinks the world of the first three episodes of the original Kamen Rider due to their darker nature. I also have seen comments about how Shin Kamen Rider is unusually violent, which lends credence to the notion that this would somehow be different.

Shin Kamen Rider turns out to be even bloodier than I had expected, even with the aforementioned warning. It is brutal and visceral in a way that none of the other Shin movies are. That’s not to say the work is overly gratuitous—but rather, it’s one of many factors that make the story very human and personal. On some level, this is probably just due to the fact that Evangelion, Ultraman, and Godzilla all concern giants, giving an inherently different sense of scale. 

But even more than the violence, Shin Kamen Rider feels like it’s trying to be something that the word “fundamental” doesn’t fully describe—as if the work is tapping into the essence of its source material so deeply that it ends up bringing forth a version from within that had not seen the light of day prior to this. What we see is a Kamen Rider if the series had continued on with the energy from those earliest episodes that Anno cherishes so much.

I watched Shin Ultraman not long before this, and there are some noteworthy differences that I think speak a lot to what each franchise embodies. For example, the monsters in Shin Ultraman appear to be much more essential—who and what they are doesn’t stray far from the source material. All the monsters in Shin Kamen Rider, on the other hand, are portrayed with much greater liberties in terms of motivations. In contrast, the main human character in Shin Ultraman is a completely different person compared to the original TV series, whereas Shin Kamen Rider still maintains the character of Hongo Takeshi, even if he isn’t 100% the same. Ultraman has more memorable monsters; Kamen Rider has more memorable humans.

To skeptics, Shin Kamen Rider would very likely come across as hokey in a way that no amount of ultra-violence could make it more palatable. However, the portrayals of its characters, from their emotional pain to their sheer awkwardness really grounds the film. I think it’s no coincidence that the costumes for Shin Kamen Rider are actually pretty cheesy—the production could have easily made them sleeker and more modern. Instead, they’re weird and cumbersome, as if the bit of messiness is important. Shin Kamen Rider is, at its core, a work that is both “cool” and “uncool,” and the two sides merge together to reveal something incredibly human.

Gattai Girls 14: “Sakura Wars” and Shinguji Sakura

Introduction: “Gattai Girls” is a series of posts dedicated to looking at giant robot anime featuring prominent female characters due to their relative rarity within that genre.

Here, “prominent” is primarily defined by two traits. First, the female character has to be either a main character (as opposed to a sidekick or support character), or she has to be in a role which distinguishes her. Second, the female character has to actually pilot a giant robot, preferably the main giant robot of the series she’s in.

For example, Aim for the Top! would qualify because of Noriko (main character, pilots the most important mecha of her show), while Vision of Escaflowne would not, because Hitomi does not engage in any combat despite being a main character, nor would Full Metal Panic! because the most prominent robot pilot, Melissa Mao, is not prominent enough.

— 

This is an unusual “Gattai Girls” entry. Sakura Wars is one of Sega’s most beloved video game franchises in Japan, and doing a review/analysis of it based on an animated TV adaptation will inevitably mean I can’t fully capture everything that makes the series what it is. Nevertheless, we have a solid example of an anime that fulfills the criteria of a mecha series with a centrally prominent female pilot, so here we are. As far as I know, the TV series follows much of the same plot, but there are some cases where major events (such as a certain heel turn) do not play out as they did in the game.

Sakura Wars takes place in an alternate Taisho-era mystical-steampunk Japan where people and technology thrive, but where horrible demonic forces also threaten the peace. The only people capable of fighting them on relatively even terms are the members of the Imperial Combat Revue: a group of girls who have the dual roles of being performers in musicals in the vein of the Takarazuka Revue and fighting as pilots of special spiritually powered mecha known as Kobu. 

One of the points of appeal of Sakura Wars is that these girls are all interesting and memorable characters, but the face of the franchise is undoubtedly its namesake, Shinguji Sakura. To understand her general popularity, one need only look at Sega’s 60th anniversary popularity poll wherein Sakura got 3rd place behind only Sonic the Hedgehog and Opa-Opa from Fantasy Zone. What makes her so appealing is that she’s essentially the ultimate yamato-nadeshiko—the classical Japanese beauty—but without being a regressive character bound by conservatism.

(SIde note: While I acknowledge that the series is full of excellent female characters, the focus will be on Sakura as the main heroine).

When Sakura first arrives to join the Combat Revue in Tokyo, she’s like a fish out of water. Clad in a kimono, everything about her screams “traditional.” However, this is the Taisho era, a time of increasing embrace of certain Western values (such as marrying for romantic love). Much of Sakura’s growth over the series involves adapting to the cosmopolitan nature of her new environment and her teammates—allies who come from different parts of Japan and the world, and who hold different values—all the while still honing the swordsmanship and spiritual energy that has made her a recruit for the Combat Revue in the first place. 

I don’t often devote space to discussing the voices behind the characters in these “Gattai Girls” entries, but I have to make a special exception here because Yokoyama Chisa is simply exceptional. Her voice carries such a range of emotions, from strength to vulnerability, from joy to sorrow, sometimes all at the same time. She’s the main singer in the Sakura Wars opening for this anime (as well as many of the games), and it really does feel like Shinguji Sakura is bringing the song to life. 

I understand that romance is actually a significant part of the Sakura Wars games, as the player usually takes the role of a male captain who’s in charge of the squad. In the case of the earliest games and related media, that would be Ogami Ichiro, and I believe Ogami and Sakura are the most popular pairing. However, romance isn’t really a huge factor in the anime, and much of the story is focused on Sakura and the others developing bonds that help them to grow as people and warriors, as well as unraveling the secrets of the demons that are plaguing Japan. In this regard, Sakura is shown to possess immense inner strength, focus, and courage, all of which end up translating to becoming a great Kobu pilot over time. 

The Kobu themselves look fantastic, their round shapes and steam valves capturing the setting’s aesthetic better than anything else. They’re distinctive, and their unisex designs means that no specific attention is drawn to the Kobu being piloted primarily by girls. Every character fights in their mecha with weapons similar to what they’d use on foot, and Sakura’s is a single katana. The power, will, and resolve to defend the innocent is actually part of Sakura’s appeal as a yamato-nadeshiko, but this is again presented less as a facet of an ossified woman and more an anchor she can use for stability when she needs it.

Shinguji Sakura is the kind of female protagonist who is often imitated but never duplicated. To be able to embody seemingly contradictory values of progress and tradition while truly betraying neither is a juggling act that can fall apart all too easily. She’s the surest sign that just because a character falls under a dominant archetype doesn’t mean they have to be boring or bland.

Have You Heard of the Latest Craze? It’s Called “The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild.”

I’m five years late to the party. As others started playing The Legend of Zelda: Tears of the Kingdom, I decided to dust off my barely touched Breath of the Wild with the goal of freeing the Divine Beasts and taking down Calamity Ganon. I wouldn’t be going in totally ignorant (I’d seen others both play and beat it), but I still had to contend with my own poor sense of direction. And so here I am now, on the other side of glorious victory, here to detail my thoughts on a game everybody has already played.

I’m not the most hardcore Zelda fan. I have a history with the games—including playing the original NES game, Link to the Past, and Ocarina of Time—but I never really touched 21st-century Zelda. I know there have been various debates about whether the post-Wind Waker games have been too linear and uncreative, and that having Breath of the Wild arrive in this context was like a bolt of lightning. This open world game ends up being situated in an interesting place in the Zelda series, not only because it had never been done before, but because it both harkens back to and defies its predecessors. The free exploration feels a lot like classic Legend of Zelda, but the open-ended solutions for puzzles hits differently compared to earning a Hookshot and utilizing it throughout a dungeon designed around it.

I think my experience with BotW can best be encapsulated by the fact that my greatest challenges and frustrations were at the beginning of the game. As mentioned, I am directionally challenged, and throwing me into the middle of nowhere without many visual markers is a sure sign for me to never get a sense of my bearings. I was probably stuck up on the game’s first area, a low-stakes plateau, for far longer than I probably should have been. Still, once I managed to actually get stuff done, the game opened up to me, and I started to have a lot more fun.

There’s something very satisfying about just discovering stuff as you go on little detours, or looking at the map and seeing something really odd out on the edges of the land—“Is that a maze?!” The game rewards you for being curious, though you may get skill-checked by the nearby monsters. It’s one thing to be able to assess the strength of enemies, but when you have to factor in that your weapons and equipment can shatter and leave you defenseless, you really have to decide if trying to go somewhere is worth it. I often stubbornly decided it was, and would end up either killed or hanging on by the skin of my teeth. Did I have to fight that first Lynel? No—the game even explicitly says you don’t need to—but I wanted to try, and I was willing to lose 80% of my weapons to do so. It’s a funny feeling to look at your rewards against what you lost to get them. 

Combat is a major part of BotW, as enemies are a frequent sight, and bosses require you to at least be able to function. I’m of two minds about the fact that the game gives you so many tools for one-on-one situations but then frequently pits you against many—I like that they don’t just wait kindly like in Ocarina of Time, but it is annoying nevertheless. I would also often wonder if maybe I was too powerful for an area with the equipment I had; I wanted to test my skills but it might have just been a matter of brute force. At the same time, I also didn’t necessarily want to be facing challenges masochistically underequipped. I understand that any powerful items I possessed were thanks to my own exploration, so it’s not like anything was unearned, but I still would have liked a better sense of where I stood in terms of mechanics mastery.

Overall, though, it was a very satisfying experience to play through Breath of the Wild. I’ve heard that Tears of the Kingdom is just a straight-up improvement in every way, which I’m looking forward to trying out sooner rather than later. I actually find it fascinating that TotK is such a direct upgrade, as that has never really happened in the history of Zelda. I’m curious to see how people assess BotW vs. TotK in terms of greatness: What do you value more, the pioneer or the refiner?