Patlabor, Dai-Guard, and Now Bullbuster

I love me some mecha, and that’s why I want to give my thoughts on the recent giant robot anime that’s been the talk of the internet. I’m referring, of course, to Bullbuster

Was there something else?

Joking aside (Go watch Bang Brave Bang Bravern!), I think 2023’s Bullbuster unfortunately went under the radar in a season and year full of great anime. It’s a mature show, but not in the mocking or edgy sense. Rather, it’s more akin to a salaryman anime with mecha included that, along the way, makes an argument for ethical companies in contrast to greedy corporations and their craven, plundering capitalism.

The plot: Okino Tetsurou is a mecha designer who is assigned to work with a small company called Namidome Industries. He’s a big fan of giant robot anime, and his latest work, the Bullbuster, was created to embody that aesthetic while also being useful for pest control. However, he soon finds out that “pest control” is a euphemism for large monsters roaming, and he learns that Namidome Industries was actually set up to eliminate these creatures so that the displaced residents can return home. However, there are many more hurdles than simply blasting the monsters away—like actually keeping a business running.

Bullbuster is cut from a cloth similar to that of Patlabor and Dai-Guard. While it doesn’t get into the heady philosophy of the Patlabor movies, Bullbuster has that environment of regular people working regular jobs that just happen to involve giant robots. In fact, the mecha are less glamorous than either of those aforementioned series, and they typically come across as more vehicles with robot aesthetics grafted on. That has a charm of its own.

There’s actually an even older work also springs to mind: The Unchallengeable Trider G7, a series about a boy who owns his own company and his own super robot. In its opening, the singer (Taira Isao) asks: “Do we fight to protect our company funds?” He then immediately answers his own question: “NO! We fight to protect the Earth!” Bullbuster is presented with a similar situation, only the heroes are not an ultra-rich kid with nigh-unlimited money like in Trider G7, but rather adults who have to deal with issues like budgets, gaining local support, and other unsexy things. In the process, it becomes a David vs. Goliath story that pits Namidome Industries against the major corporation, whose threat comes not merely from their size but also their prioritization of profit at the expense of all else. One thing I find notable is that while there are moments where the big corporation comes across as possibly just suffering from a few bad apples, it becomes increasingly clear that the rot is actually deep in the roots. 

The main fault of Bullbuster is that it doesn’t look particularly good. Nothing about the visuals whether in stills or in motion is anything to write home about, and the CG used for the monsters looks outdated by a decade or more. Even for someone like me who doesn’t put too much stock into “animation quality,” I think it holds the show back.

Ultimately, what tells me that Bullbuster has an adult perspective is not just the business setting or the lack of teen tropes. Rather, it’s because whatever hopeful message the anime conveys is inevitably tinged with a bit of cynicism that can only come from being worn down by entering “the real world.” Even when problems are solved and people are held accountable, often the ones truly responsible for the harm caused remain protected by power and privilege. Nevertheless, I respect Bullbuster for telling us to not give up.

PS: The singer of the opening is NORISTRY, and he’s actually an utaite, or amateur/semi-pro online singer. If you like the song, he streams and releases covers pretty regularly.

Doraemon the Antifascist – Doraemon: Nobita’s Little Star Wars 2021

On my recent trip to Japan, I watched an anime movie as in-flight entertainment: Doraemon: Nobita’s Little Star Wars 2021. This film is actually a remake of 1985’s Doraemon: Nobita’s Little Star Wars. While I have not seen the original, I have heard that it’s a beloved work in Japan.

Doraemon is one of those Japanese mega franchises that was never part of my childhood, so I hold no particular nostalgia for it. Even so, I do know that the annual movies for enduring mega franchises are big deals (see: One Piece, Detective Conan), both in terms of box office sales and getting major industry names to work on them. For example, in this case, the screenplay is actually by one of my favorite creators, Sato Dai (Eureka Seven, Battle Spirits: Shounen Toppa Bashin).

The basic premise of Doraemon is that a hapless boy named Nobita meets a robot cat from the future named Doraemon, whose main feature is the ability to pull out all sorts of fantastical gadgets: a door that can lead to anywhere, a block of gelatinous konjac that when consumed works as a universal translator, and so on. Nobita, Doraemon, and friends thus get into all sorts of hijinks in general, but in this instance, the adventure comes to them. A diminutive alien named Papi has escaped to Earth because of a coup that threatens his world’s democratic government, and the gang ends up helping out when the coup’s militaristic leader, Gilmore, comes to pursue them. 

I definitely did not expect Doraemon to turn into Voltes V, but the flavor is similar in that both stories turn into the struggle between an oppressor and people who seek to be represented by their government rather than ruled by it. I don’t know if this pro-democracy message is the reason the old film got remade, but given the current state of the world and the rise of authoritarianism, I have to wonder. 

Another thing I noticed is just how much love and care was put into animating Nobita’s friend and crush, Shizuka. I’ve read many times over the years that she is a common first love among kids in Japan, and it feels like the movie really leans into this. 

I came in with few expectations, and got out of it a kid’s movie with a surprisingly important message relevant to this time and all times. Hope it’ll work!

In Search of Hanayo: My “Love Live!” GiGo Collabo Cafe Experience

On my recent trip to Japan, I did the expected thing and went to Akihabara. While there, I spotted a Love Live! collaboration cafe at the arcade GiGO Akihabara Building 3, and decided that I had to go. Not only was it Love Live!-related, but it was actually focused on the OG μ’s girls!

I followed the signs, which led me all the way to the top floor. Curiously, the setup is such that you can’t take escalators all the way. 

Upon entering, I found myself in a small room covered in Love Live! paraphernalia, including posters, gashapon machines, and display cases. As a video played with scenes from the anime, Love Live! Songs could also be heard at the same time, dividing my attention a bit. The actual cafe was hidden behind a door, making it impossible to actually see what it’s like without registering with the cashier there.

In addition to registering a time slot for the cafe, the cashier has another role: accepting payments for even more merch. The goods weren’t limited to the original girls but included all generations, though the only things that weren’t blindbox items were the acrylic stands featuring μ’s in pink outfits. I decided to play the odds a little bit, but as someone who much prefers a guaranteed thing, I also bought the acrylic stand for my all-time fave, Hanayo. Because I bought a couple things, I hit a threshold to also receive a free plastic mini poster with the other eight girls included.

There just so happened to be a time slot available shortly after I arrived, so I decided to put my name down. 

The actual cafe was brightly lit and covered in μ’s art on the walls and the tables. A couple of the voices, Uchida Aya (Minami) and Iida Riho (Rin), had autographed some of the displays. 

The only other collabo cafe/restaurant I’d attended had been for Legend of the Galactic Heroes, which is aesthetically and thematically quite far-removed from Love Live! However, one thing it had in common with the Love Live! cafe is that you could also get merch by ordering food and drinks. In this case, the items consisted of coasters selected at random (of course), with drinks and desserts netting patrons one coaster and main courses two. 

I already had meal plans for later, so I decided to go with just a single Hanayo-themed beverage, which was a soft drink consisting of apple juice and muscat grape jelly (Side note: I learned through this trip that muscat grape is ridiculously delicious). I did not win a Hanayo coaster, but rather one for “START:DASH!!,” which in the anime is the first song performed by Honoka, Umi, and Minami. 

In contrast to my conservative order, other patrons went quite hard. I saw one person end up with around five drinks, two main courses, and I recall at least one dessert (though my memory might be off). Other individuals were similar. However, as someone who never, ever whaled in gacha in mobile form, I was hesitant to do the IRL version any more than I already had. I understand the desire, though.

You can see everything I ended up with (plus a canvas badge of Yugiri Tsuzuri from Hasunora I purchased elsewhere). While nothing there is really mind blowing, I’m glad I got to have this experience, and I’m happy I got to share it today, on Hanayo’s birthday.

Emotional Continuity in Anime

What does it mean for a work of fiction to feel “realistic?” It’s a question I return to over and over because of how subjective the answer can be. The more I’ve thought about different possible takes, however, the more I’ve found that I resonate strongly with something I call “emotional continuity,” and it informs which series I view most positively.

Broadly speaking, there are many types of continuity in storytelling. There’s the simple that the events of the past should inform the events of the future. A character who loses an arm in episode 1 of a show shouldn’t get it back with no explanation in episode 10. Then there’s capital “C” continuity, like what American superhero comics often deal in, where all the individual parts ideally look together to form a consistent universe and timeline across multiple different series. “Emotional continuity” isn’t nearly so complex. Instead, I define it as simply when events that should affect a given character emotionally result in an appropriate response, and that this character remembers this feeling on some level. Those reactions and memories don’t have to be “sensible,” and they don’t have to result in a “character arc,” though both are possibilities. They simply have to feel consistent with the character and their way of being, and then leave a mark on that character.

One work I’ve debated with others about realism (and by extension show quality, though the two are not necessarily related) is the anime Mobile Suit Gundam: Iron-Blooded Orphans. Whereas others saw the character actions as making little sense and thus stunting the overall story, I felt the opposite. I came to strongly understand each character’s motivations, especially in the core cast, and to see how early events both happy and tragic would inform the general trajectory of their approaches to life.

Another anime that I’ve argued about is Kill la Kill, specifically in regards to the idea that the heroine, Ryuko, is a strong main character even though she didn’t receive much “character development.” The big sticking point for detractors is that she doesn’t really change significantly throughout the series or learn any personal lessons. However, I find that even if she doesn’t transform dramatically, she conveys a strong sense of “emotional continuity” based in her anger, her stubbornness, and her desire to right wrongs. Even if she’s still the same rage-filled Ryuko by the end, it’s impossible to say that the events of the series don’t affect her emotionally or inform her friendships, battles, and decisions.

I realized that “emotional continuity” also greatly informs my utter fondness for the series Heartcatch Precure! and might even explain why the series is often seen as the best of the Precure franchise or somewhat overrated. Years ago, a blogger named Scamp tried to watch through as much Precure as he could, but ended up dropping every show, including Heartcatch. His reason was that nothing ever seemed to happen for the most part, and that dramatic, story-changing moments came too abruptly. This surprised me, because I felt the total opposite—that the show built up to every significant plot point like a skilled architect oversaw the construction. I even wrote a response. In hindsight, while I used the phrase “emotional logic,” i.e. reasoning through feelings, to describe what I saw, what I was actually highlighting was emotional continuity.

Moonlight…in suffering loss…felt wracked with guilt, giving up her role as protector. The task to defend the world had been passed onto a new generation…and as they collected the Heart Seeds, they laid the groundwork for Moonlight to redeem herself, to learn from her mistakes while also forgiving herself…. Although Cure Moonlight’s return is telegraphed to a degree, for me it built anticipation … I felt satisfied that the show had reached a strong emotional point with a solid expression of how the feelings of each character, especially Moonlight, defined their actions.

Rarely in fiction is anything utterly devoid of emotional continuity, but the best series make you feel as if they care about what’s happened to their characters. Something that has had issues with maintaining this continuity in recent years was World Wrestling Entertainment, and that seems to be finally turned around in the past couple years. While there are general structural issues with how WWE presents itself that go beyond emotional continuity, it’s telling that fans had very little faith in their favorites wrestlers being recognizable beyond a basic template. Continuity is played fast and loose in general, and the highly physical nature of their format means injuries and other unpredictable elements can gum up the best laid plans, but there’s a persistent sense that what a given wrestler does or says one week should actually matter the next.

Do you find emotional continuity to be important? If so, how much is it a priority for you? I’m curious to see how others feel.

Frieren, Ikari Shinji, and Lost Love

Frieren: Beyond Journey’s End is simply one of the finest fantasy series I’ve ever seen, on par with Witch Hat Atelier. From its premise, to its intriguing world-building, to its endearing cast of characters, Frieren is like an oasis in a desert of flimsily conceived genre works. Among its many strengths, one thing that I find most compelling is the way it portrays how different races perceive time differently. This is especially the case with the titular heroine, Frieren.

A long-lived elf mage, Frieren was originally a member of the small party that managed to defeat the demon lord after a decade of adventure. Shortly after their victory, she and her allies are invited to live in the royal capital, but she leaves for a “short” while to continue her pursuit of weird and obscure spells. By the time she returns (50 years later), their young and handsome leader, the vaunted hero Himmel, is old and gray. At his funeral, Frieren deeply regrets having been his companion for “only” 10 years—what others would consider a long and life-defining era instead barely existed for her.

Later episodes reinforce just how much of a drop in the bucket the 10-year quest was for Frieren. Against Aura the Guillotine, a mighty and feared demon, all other adventurers would do everything in their power to eliminate her for the danger she posed. Yet, Frieren held back so that she could deceive Aura for 80 years before dropping the hammer in the modern day. This truly gives a sense of how differently Frieren sees everything as an elf many centuries old, but also just how impactful Himmel was to her.

In thinking about Himmel’s influence, another anime character came to mind: Ikari Shinji from Evangelion. Specifically, his relationship with Nagisa Kaworu at the end of the TV series holds some parallels.

Kaworu shows up in Episode 24 of Neon Genesis Evangelion, and he makes an incredible impact on Shinji. Their immediate friendship is a salve for the emotionally wounded Shinji, who opens up to Kaworu. However, by the end of the episode, Kaworu is dead. This relationship lasted only half an hour of runtime, and less than a week in-story. Nevertheless, this brief love (be it platonic or romantic) is powerful indeed.

The way Frieren sees her time with Himmel is not unlike how Shinji views his few days with Kaworu. It was there, it was magical, and it was gone just like that. It’s beautiful yet heart-rending, and these couple of details really showcase how amazing Frieren the series is as a whole.

Best Anime Characters of 2023

BEST MALE CHARACTER

Pluto (Pluto)

In a series full of excellent characters who are each a master class in storytelling, the one who stands out to me the most is Pluto himself.

The main antagonistic force in his series, Pluto is presented in myriad ways over the course of the story. First, he’s known only by the aftermath of his destructive powers. Then, we see glimpses of him within mighty whirlwinds, like a monster straight out of a suspenseful horror film. But then more facets of Pluto are revealed that show him to be far more complex and conflicted than what we’re initially led to believe. 

He barely gets any screen time in the grand scheme of things, but by the time everything comes to a head, it’s amazing that what stands before us is the same being as the enigmatic harbinger of death from Episode 1. The most seemingly inhuman of robots turns out to be among the most human of all.

BEST FEMALE CHARACTER

Suletta Mercury (Mobile Suit Gundam: The Witch from Mercury)

After decades, we finally have our first true female Gundam protagonist. While there have been predecessors of sorts, like Fumina in Build Fighters TRY and Christina Mackenzie in War in the Pocket, Suletta is both the Gundam pilot and the heroine in a main Gundam anime. 

Being such a major milestone is a pretty big deal in itself. However, what we also have in Suletta is an incredibly interesting main character whose story and growth anchor her series—all while being incredibly unique among Gundam heroes. She begins the series as a sheltered girl whose anxiousness and constant second-guessing are endearing and hint at her eventual development. Thrust into unfamiliar environments and forced to confront difficult questions about who she is and where she came from, Suletta gradually grows into her own person, struggling and breaking free of the shackles imposed on her by others, including her own mother. 
Suletta might not even be my favorite character in Witch from Mercury, but her significance to Gundam and anime, combined with the brilliant job the creators and the actor have done to bring Suletta to life makes her the best in my eyes. She is so very human, and the way she is shaped by—and, in turn, shapes—her world resonates emotionally.

BEST MAGICAL BOY

Yuunagi Tsubasa (Soarin’ Sky Precure)

Precure is a magical girl franchise, so it generally makes sense that each series would feature girls as the heroes, with male characters occupying supporting roles. And over the years, there would be dalliances with the possibility that boys could be magical in their own ways, whether by utilizing different abilities (Black Pepper, Rio), through imagination and gags (Cure Fire, Cure Gorilla), or as one-offs (Cure Infini). But in Soarin’ Sky Precure, an anime that’s all about defying the trends off its predecessors, Yuunagi Tsubasa stands proud as the first true male Precure.

Tsubasa is a bird who cannot fly—his species, native to a magical fantasy land, sacrificed the natural ability for greater intelligence. But rather than give up on the possibility, he used his smarts to study and follow in the footsteps of the Wright Brothers. And when he gains the magic to travel the skies as a Precure, he utilizes his knowledge of physics and aerodynamics to aid in battle. The way Tsubasa takes advantage of his strengths and refuses to let his weaknesses limit him is inspirational.

I think a special shout-out has to be given to Cure Wing’s design, as it does a great job of feeling boyish while matching the general Precure aesthetic. It threads a very fine line indeed. 

FINAL THOUGHTS

This year’s characters represent long overdue achievements. Pluto is the antagonist of a work for an anime adaptation for a manga from 20 years ago. Suletta and Tsubasa, in turn, have shattered gender norms of their respective decades-old mega franchises. They’re also anything but one-dimensional—especially Pluto and Suletta, who come out of their respective works very different from how they began. The pioneering aspect of these characters indicate a slow but steady march of progress that I hope won’t be the high point, but the beginning of greater things.

Kio Shimoku Twitter Highlights December 2023

A round of tweets by Kio Shimoku to end the year, including a special illustration of Ogiue!

Kio wishes the manga author Hayamira Senjin a happy 52nd birthday.

In regards to Not-Sasahara, Kio mentions that he seems to be weak to girls with talent.

Halfway through Elden Ring. Kio thinks the game is amazing because when you first start out, becoming the Elden Lord seems unthinkable, but as you progress, the notion starts to feel real.

Kio watched his DVD copy of a How Do You Like Wednesday special that was filmed in the US.

Kio looks forward to the live-action version of his 18+ doujinshi.

Kio is impressed that the two women who will be playing the characters in that adaptation are so beautiful.

With his work for Rakuen magazine out of the way, Kio concentrates on trying to finish his ero manga manuscript. He originally wanted to get it done and ready to sell by the end of the year.

Kio went walking with his tortoise in the park, but the wind was strong and cold.

Each time Kio watches Gothicmade, it gets more interesting. He particularly likes the scene where the Kaiserin is activated.

Showing some The Five Star Stories model kits he built.

Kio admiring the Five Star Stories work of renowned modeler Tani Akira.

Kio mentions owning the manga Great Curve by Hinirasu Kanta.

Kio finally finished the manuscript for his next erotic work, and it turned out to be a whopping 134 pages. Someone likens his output to Ogiue’s, which Kio denies.

The illustrator Yagumo Kengou had to be taken to the hospital by ambulance due to poor physical condition. Kio asks Yagumo to show some self-love.

Whenever Kio listens to the boss music from the Elden Ring soundtrack, he feels like he makes good progress while working on manga. He’s also 50% through the story but hasn’t fought a lot of the second-half bosses yet.

Kio saw the Japanese animated film The Imaginary, which exceeded his expectations. He couldn’t help but view Rudger and Tot through the eyes of a parent.

There are some surprises with Rudger’s voice, as the character seems to change gender in the movie. [Note: I’m not familiar with the film myself]

Another attempt to walk the tortoise, despite the cold weather.

Kio drew a small comic about being at the recording session for the It’s All Your Fault, Sensei adult video. NSFW.

Kio talks about the fact that he’s been using Twitter for a few years now, and if it were to go away, he’d probably return to having no internet presence. He also calls “X” a stranger/kid he doesn’t know.

Kio bought a copy of It’s All Your Fault, Sensei. While he normally skips straight to the action, this time, he watched the whole thing and enjoyed it.

He mentions that there are certain limitations to showing internal climaxes in live-action stuff compared to manga.

A promotional drawing of the above.

A drawing of Ogiue agreeing to a ridiculous request to wear a Santa outfit [Merry Christmas to meeee.]

Kio was having some trouble installing Clip Studio Paint and getting his tablet to work on his new computer.

The Kuma Miko manga is ending, and Kio gives his thoughts. It’s a series where after every chapter is over, he feels a need to express something difficult to say. He’s not sure how he’s going to feel after it concludes, given how many laughs he’s gotten out of the series.

Kio realizes he’s been mixing up the Bastole and the Botune Aura Battlers from Dunbine, despite having both model kits as a kid. He’s not the only one either.

Walking the tortoise again on a warmer day.

The Role of Unique Voices in VTubing, K-Pop, and More

“Is it more important to me for a group song to sound good or have distinct voices?”

This is something that’s been on my mind lately as I’ve been exploring my own feelings about music- and idol-adjacent worlds.

I have an odd relationship with K-Pop. I think it can be good, but it’s also definitely not my preference generally, and as someone who seeks to be open-minded, I keep resisting the urge to write off huge swathes of it. The last thing I want to be is dismissive, so I listen and listen, but it just never seems to fully click. Even with songs that I enjoy, something bothers me in the back of my head. Also confusing is that I seem to end up enjoying songs inspired by K-Pop more than K-Pop itself. Case in point: “Dark Breath” by hololive VTuber La+ Darknesss. That includes both the song itself and the accompanying dance (which I know is part of the appeal of K-Pop).

Speaking of, La+ has been crossing over in all sorts of places: notably performing with non-hololive VTubers, doing covers of songs by the League of Legends K-Pop-style group K/DA (alongside her fellow hololive members) for Riot Games One, and being one of two VTuber ambassadors for the very first The iDOLM@STER/Love Live joint concert. 

And here, despite the hololive performances of “POP/STARS” and “Baddest” being less polished, I also enjoy them more than the originals. I don’t think it’s merely because I know the VTubers, so I’ve been doing a good deal of listening to K/DA for the first time, and revisiting Love Live! in between VTuber songs.

Different franchises and media projects have their own priorities. Love Live! and The iDOLM@STER are both just as much about voice acting as they are music, and being able to easily distinguish between individuals based on how they sound is a big part of helping each character/performer to garner their own fandoms. 

For example, I don’t think you need to have any familiarity with Love Live! to notice that “Cutie Panther” features three very distinct voices. The differences can be exaggerated, but they’re present nevertheless.

Similarly, the start of ReGLOSS’s “Shunkan Heartbeat” has each of the five hololive members singing a part of the beginning by themselves, and it’s because the song is as much an introduction of them as five distinct entities (each with their own Youtube channel). That’s part of the VTuber business model. 

This is not to say that songs need distinct voices to be good, and there’s plenty of music with easily differentiated voices that is lacking in other ways, including within those voice-acting/VTuber/idol domain. But when I listen to Blackpink, for instance, I find it is nowhere near as easy to tell the singers apart. It might just be a lack of familiarity on my part, but I also feel that it might not even be the fault of the singers themselves. After all, if you picked three random people out of a room and told them to all sing, there’s a good chance they’d all sound different from one another, even if they weren’t good.

The culprit, I believe, could be how K-Pop is produced. That industry seems to be built on projecting images of perfection, and the result is that everyone sounds flawless. However, this has the drawback of also removing the quirks in people’s voices and by extension their individuality. And even with K/DA, I feel that their songs do a relatively better job of keeping these qualities, perhaps because the source material was a game with over 150 unique playable characters.

Which is to say: 1) While I don’t think distinct voices can be the only thing a song has, nor a lack of such a quality to be a deal breaker, I think it can add a lot to a song. 2) I think part of the reason K-Pop feels so overproduced to me is because of the way it seems to hone and chisel the music to such an extent as to wipe out those interestingly unique qualities that singers possess. 

And all this leads me down another rabbit hole, which is thinking about the different roles a singer can have when it comes to music. Does the song serve them, or do they serve the song? Are they the centerpiece, or part of a greater sound? With idols, is it that the quality of music is less important than its ability to emotionally connect the fans to the idols? I feel like there are endless possibilities, and perhaps that how much we as listeners and audiences prioritize certain elements is what shapes our tastes.

Urasawa’s Pluto Was a Long Time Coming

It’s rare that a manga gets adapted into anime as perfectly as Pluto on Netflix. The art and animation: almost as if Urasawa Naoki drew everything himself. The pacing: eight hour-ish episodes, one for every volume of the manga. This is something that might have been unthinkable 15 or even 10 years ago, but they actually pulled it off.

Pluto is a dramatic reimagining of a story from Tetsuwan Atom (or Astro Boy) called “The Greatest Robot on Earth,” changed to be equal parts speculative political fiction, introspective examination, murder mystery, and monster thriller. The story takes place in a world where robots have achieved greater rights as fully autonomous beings, but prejudices still persist. When a Swiss robot named Montblanc is murdered, everyone is shocked: As not only one of the most beloved robots in existence, but also one of the 7 most powerful, taking him out would not have been an easy task. Another one of the greatest robots, the Europol detective Gesicht, is assigned to the case, which takes him around the world to discover the truth—not only about the case, but also about himself and the moral/social/ethical conundrums among humanity and robotkind.

One of my favorite things about Pluto is the way “Pluto” is presented to the audience. At first, there are only hints and flashes, and over time, more gets revealed. However, by the time we have a fuller picture, the context changes how we perceive the threat, and causes all the philosophical challenges to become even greater. 

Netflix hides its numbers, so there’s no telling how successful Pluto has been. Even so, I can’t help but remember when another Urasawa Naoki series, Monster, aired on the Syfy Network in 2009. At the time, the US was clearly not in a position to accept that kind of mature animation, despite the fact that his work should have been perfect for cable television. Over a decade later, however, anime has become more mainstream, and viewers are more accustomed to a greater range of visual styles. I think, or at least I hope, that we’re ready now.

Pluto is a prestige title, and very deservedly so. It’s generally well animated, has great writing and characters, tells a compelling story, raises a lot of poignant questions, and is just filled with complex emotions, all done in a way that feels both pulpy and sophisticated. I highly recommend that everyone check it out, whether by watching the anime or reading the original manga. It’s my favorite of Urasawa’s work, and I hope as many people as possible seek it out.

The Apothecary Diaries Opening Reminds Me of Something

I watched the first episode of The Apothecary Diaries, and the opening is very reminiscent of a different and much older anime: The 1984 Glass Mask TV series.

Here is that intro:

And here is Glass Mask:

Between the heavy focus on the main heroines, the black background, and even the head movements, I can’t help but see similarities between protagonists Maomao and Kitajima Maya, respectively.

It might just be a coincidence that they’re similar, but I’d love to know if any inspiration was taken.