Risk vs. Reward: Otakon 2021

2021 was the first year where I questioned whether going to Otakon was a good idea. It’s long been my favorite anime convention, but the ongoing threat of the COVID-19 pandemic and the frightening rise of the delta variant in the United States made me anxious about attending an event that regularly brings close to 30,000 people into a single indoor venue.  Ultimately, I decided to make the trip to Washington DC—partly because I wanted to support the fan-run con that has provided so many excellent moments. But it was also because I wanted to try to do something “normal” while taking every precaution I possibly could in order to avoid straight-up tempting fate. 

Personal COVID-19 Precautions

I traveled to DC fully vaccinated and wearing the best facemasks I could obtain. I decided not to do any interviews with guests this year (though the lack of Japanese industry guests helped that). I largely steered clear of the dealer room and gaming room. And I greatly reduced my normal frantic pace of checking out every panel imaginable to eat and take respite in my hotel room, where everyone else was a familiar face who was fully vaccinated.

Otakon COVID-19 Precautions

Prior to Otakon weekend, attendees would receive emails about the numerous precautions being taken to try to ensure everyone’s safety. Masks would be mandated, the convention center would be well ventilated, and temperature checks would be included.  Vaccinations were not required, which I hope can change for next year.

In terms of masks, the vast majority of people I saw wore masks and wore them properly, and even those whose mask etiquette was questionable would at least try to fix it eventually. This was only my limited perspective, so I can’t say if there were pockets of people resistant to doing so, but it gave me at least a bit of faith that most attendees wanted this event to work. However, trying to enforce a mask mandate on 23,000 people is no easy feat, and I’m not sure if a greater amount of staff/security would do the trick.

The Walter E. Washington Convention Center is a very spacious venue with high ceilings, and was even used as a temporary hospital for COVID-19 patients in previous months. In a more cramped space, I would have been much more alarmed, but walking past people on the way to a panel felt no busier than a New York City sidewalk, albeit indoors—at least on Friday and Sunday. Saturday had more attendees (an inevitability for any weekend convention), and that had me feeling more apprehensive. I took particular care not to remove my mask for any reason on Saturday.

The panel rooms themselves could have used better social distancing, as there was no incentive presented to steer clear of others outside of one’s own desire to do so. In some cases, volunteers encouraged us to pack in for the more heavily attended panels, and I found myself (perhaps against better judgment) staying and hoping my mask and vaccinations (as well as the masks of those around me) would be enough. I feel there should have been more done to encourage social distancing in rooms, even though I understand the disappointment it would inevitably cause for those who wouldn’t be able to enter a panel or event they could have in previous years. I myself presented a panel this year with the best attendance I’ve ever seen for one of my presentations, and I feel conflicted about it because of these circumstances.

As for the temperature checks, I did not see any, and I’m not sure how they were supposed to work or if anyone was indeed caught having a fever. If anyone spotted the temperature checks in action or have more information, I would like to know more.

Fan Panels

As mentioned in the introduction, there’s a lot I typically look forward to at Otakon—interviews with Japanese guests, especially—that simply didn’t happen this year. The ability to get interesting industry guests who are willing to share greater insight into the world of anime and manga beyond just pitching their latest projects has been one of the most valuable parts of the Otakon experience up to now. In their absence, I had to wonder if the other appealing aspects of the con could carry the event.

While guests are great, I think the real lifeblood of Otakon is the robust fan panel programming, and I was happy to see it out in full force. A combination of veteran presenters and (I assume) new blood kept things entertaining and informative. While not every panel was an absolute winner, the energy that comes from seeing people onstage sharing topics they find fascinating or encouraging others to expand their scopes is always encouraging.

Thirty Years Ago: Anime in 1991

Daryl Surat from Anime World Order is always a solid presenter. He picked a nice and diverse set of works and made good cases for why they’re still memorable today. As I expected, he made reference to Brave of the Sun Fighbird, the super robot anime that gave birth to the “Is this a pigeon?” meme.

The Best Openings for Shows You (Probably) Didn’t See

This had the Anime World Order crew in full force. As advertised, there were some I didn’t see, and I liked that it had a real mix of genres. The fact that it started off with the opening to Goshogun earns it plenty of points. 

Japonisme: A History of the First Japanese Culture Craze in the 19th Century

This panel looked at the weebs of the 1800s, particularly in terms of the great artists of the century. The presenter (an art history teacher) did a solid job of showing how names like Cezanne, Van Gogh, Gauguin, and more were influenced by the woodblock prints and other forms of art coming out of Japan—as well as the problematic Orientalism surrounding the whole thing. 

Manga Masters: Kentaro Miura

Patrick (The Cockpit) and manga expert Ed Chavez did a retrospective on the life and career of the late, great Miura Kentaro. Some of the big takeaways were that 1) Miura was not just a skilled artist, he was a nurturing and supportive figure to his friends and fellow artists 2) he single handedly put seinen on the map for the predominantly shoujo-oriented publisher Hakusensha 3) he changed the landscape when it came to manga and fantasy titles. Overall, it was an informative and insightful panel.

Samus vs. Ridley: A Metroid Historia

Not just a video game history panel, this one looked at how the disparate scraps of lore and storytelling gradually came together to form the Metroid we know today. It was fascinating how seemingly everything, even the Nintendo Power comic from the 1990s, somehow has found its way into the mythos in part or in whole.

Bad Anime, Bad…The 20th Anniversary!!

One of the enduring highlights of Otakon is back to celebrate twenty years of awful animation, and I think it’s important to note how much this panel acts as a predecessor of sorts for the current Youtube anime review scene. Not just limited to Japanese animation, it was good to see this still going strong—and Dracula: Sovereign of the Damned is evergreen terrible.

The Wonderful World of Yas

Another creator retrospective, this time it was for Yoshikazu Yasuhiko, the character designer of Gundam and one of the finest artists to ever grace the industry. Finding out that he was dissatisfied with his work in the 1980s makes a lot of things click together in terms of my understanding of him. I wish this panel was better attended, as I think plenty of fans would love seeing not just Yaz’s mecha stuff but also his love of history. However, it was literally up against a different Gundam-related panel.

When Anime Companies Knew Nothing About ANIME FAN WANTS

Run by George Horvath, this panel was a series of painful lessons in industry hubris. However, perhaps it had the opposite effect on me, and I kind of want to start my own anime company…

Ogiue Maniax Presents: Saturday Morning MILFs

A few years ago, I decided to turn an idle observation about anime into a panel where I introduce fans to the surprisingly wide variety of interesting and attractive mom characters cropping up in works for kids. Amid the perennial love of high school characters in anime, I thought MILFs was a worthwhile subject. Unfortunately, my initial attempts to present it were met with rejections and waitlists.

But this year, I decided to swing for the fences and apply for it as my sole panel submission…and actually got the okay! While I was out of practice when it came to public speaking, I actually had most of the panel prepared from previous years’ attempts, and felt comfortable that I could deliver something at least decent.

What I didn’t expect was to be in Panel 1 (one of the two biggest panel rooms at Otakon), and for my silly little project to have the largest convention audience I’ve ever dealt with on a personal basis. It was packed (though that was perhaps not a good thing, given COVID and all).

The funny thing about me is that I often feel a lot more pressure presenting in a vacuum than I do to an actual audience. In front of a gathering of otaku eager to see some MILFs, I worked to educate and inform, while also throwing some red meat out there (because at the end of the day, it was an 18+ panel). Afterwards, a few longtime friends complimented me on the panel, saying I successfully threaded the needle and balanced learning with pleasing the horny audience.

Industry Panels and Screenings

Despite a lack of Japanese guests, the industry panels I did attend were all worthwhile in their own way. The DENPA panel was run by Ed Chavez, and he’s always your best bet for getting an inside look at the manga industry. AnimEigo has the benefit of CEO Robert Woodhead’s many decades in the industry, and I was impressed by his company’s dedication to preserving art and design material for anime projects. Discotek panels are always a blast, but the announcement of blu-ray releases for both Aim for the Top! Gunbuster and Machine Robo: Revenge of Chronos practically stole the whole show at Otakon. I’d been waiting years for the former, and the latter never got a full release—it was actually licensed by accident

I also decided to check one off the bucket list and finally watched Project A-ko, or rather, Discotek’s remastered blu-ray edition.

In addition, there was a screening for a 3DCG short called HOME! by the animation studio Orange. It was a brief but sweet story about an astronaut and a ghost inhabiting a space colony, and it showed why Orange’s CG work is a cut above its competitors in Japan. A short panel afterwards elaborated on Orange’s approach to 3D work, and it’s easy to see the care that goes into shows like Beastars and Land of the Lustrous.

Artist Alley

Artist Alley is usually not one of my priorities, but it sort of took the place of the Dealers Room for me this year. Below are all my purchases at Otakon. It’s not much, but I think it all looks great.

Food

The places I went to this year for finer eating were Farmers & Distillers, SUNdeVICH, and Bantam King. There was also a newly opened Ben’s ChilI Bowl in the convention center (and the old dining area near the underground entrance to the Marriott was closed for renovations).

Farmers & Distillers’ claim to fame is that they get everything directly from local farms. It’s more expensive than your standard restaurants and requires a reservation, but the food is amazing. I got the Yankee pot roast and the vanilla bean cheesecake with strawberries and cream—a combination that was as delicious as I’d hoped but left me regretting the heaviness of the overall dinnerl. the next day. Take a lesson from me and try to balance your meal out better.

SUNdeVICH is a sandwich shop with a variety of solid choices with an international flair. I tried the Shiraz (Persian beef tongue) over salad and the Rome (Italian cold-cut combo) on a sandwich, and both were top notch. 

Bantam King I’d been to on my first trip to DC for Otakon, but this time I went for the curry snow fried chicken plate instead of the chilled ramen. The onions and white sauce on top reminded me a lot of coleslaw and fried chicken, and the flavor profile worked well. However, the simplicity and sheer deliciousness of the chicken drippings over white rice was the real winner.

Ben’s Chili Bowl at the convention center suffered from being short staffed (a common problem caused by the pandemic), but once I got my chili half-smoke (chili over a beef-and-pork sausage on a bun), it was amazingly solid. 

Cosplay

This year’s cosplay had the inevitable addition of masks. Some of the cosplayers would temporarily remove their masks for photos but kept them on otherwise.

Final Thoughts

The overall Otakon 2021 experience, for better or worse, was surprisingly normal. In any other year, it would’ve felt par for the course, but the surrounding circumstances at times made things awkward. There were moments where it was easy to almost lose myself in the moment, but had to get snapped back to the reality of an escalating pandemic. I’m still not sure if going was the right idea, and as the delta variant escalates, I worry about 2022. In the meantime, though, I made it back with plenty of good memories. I hope everyone else can say the same thing.

Let’s Get this Roadshow on the Road: SHIROBAKO the Movie

When SHIROBAKO The Movie was first announced, I was filled with excitement and anticipation. The original TV series is one of my favorite anime from P.A. Works, as its romanticized look at the Japanese animation industry through the P.A. Works formula (cute girls doing X in a town) delivers some pretty deep-cut in-jokes while working to encourage viewers to consider joining the anime industry. I looked forward to reuniting with a fantastic cast of characters and seeing how their careers in anime would continue. 

A few pandemic-induced delays on both sides of the ocean later, and I finally got my chance to attend a one-night-only screening through Fathom Events.

The Story

SHIROBAKO is about five girls who make a promise to join the anime industry and turn their club project into a full-fledged anime, and enter the field by specializing in different aspects of anime production. The movie takes place four years after the TV series, and sees them still working in the industry but suffering from stagnating careers. In particular, protagonist Miyamori Aoi is dealing with the decline of her studio, Musashino Animation Productions (aka Musani), after a disastrous show cancellation. As Aoi wonders if there’s any way to bring it back to its old glory, a proposal comes her way: take a risk and start production on an anime film. 

A Theatrical Feel

In many ways, the film feels like it’s trying as hard as possible to indeed be SHIROBAKOTHE MOVIE. Just as the TV series is about making shows, this involves the characters working on a feature-film. And because one of the biggest appeals of SHIROBAKO is its cast of characters, a lot of the movie is about bringing the old team back together and rediscovering the energy and inspiration they’ve lost. A couple of musical numbers—a feature absent from the TV series—also get thrown in, as if the staff is saying, “We’re doing this because we can.” It’s definitely the experience I was looking for, from reuniting with the cast (writer Imai “Diesel-san” Midori being my favorite) and it ends in a satisfying and uplifting way, though ironically, I wish I could have spent more time with them. 

Rosy, Yet Not without Criticisms

SHIROBAKO can be thought of as a story about people within an industry, as opposed to the industry itself. It peels back the curtain enough to show the strain of deadlines, creative clashes, the perils of overwork, and many other things that can go wrong during an anime production. However, it doesn’t point any fingers at the systemic issues that cause these to be common problems, notably chronic underpayment of staff. SHIROBAKO is willing to deliver a few lumps, but holds back the ugliest parts. Though, given that it’s not meant to be a hard-hitting work, I don’t really mind. At the very least, it’s not all sunshine and rainbows in SHIROBAKO.

This approach extends into the movie, but this time, it’s willing to show a bit more about how precarious everything can be within anime production. Part of the reason Musani fell from grace is because the studio’s owner (who, as a reminder, is a parody of legendary industry figure Maruyama Masao) tried to get ahead of schedule by starting production before the ink had dried on the contract, and got burned for doing so. In other words, trying to be more responsible came with an inherent risk, which on some level indicates an unforgiving industry. This also ties into the direction the movie goes, as well as Aoi’s role in the process. Like Keep Your Hands Off Eizouken!’s Kanamori, Aoi is a producer, and the dramatically reduced time span to finish the film seems like a recipe for disaster. Aoi has to know how to best use previous resources and experience to allow for some shortcuts, and when to put your foot down to keep on schedule vs. when to encourage and allow for greater creative flexibility. 

Overall

SHIROBAKO The Movie is more or less what I wanted and expected out of it, and the challenges it presents its characters—trying to get out of their respective ruts and reignite their passion for anime—helps to paint an image of the anime industry as complicated and full of ups and downs. Though this is clearly a film from before COVID-19 was an issue, 

I have to wonder if it was meant to be P.A. Works‘ giving a pep talk to itself, trying to provide some hope when things feel hopeless.

[Otakon 2021] The Kitchen Sink Too: Project A-ko (Remastered)

Project A-ko is an indelible part of my anime fandom. As a young nerd in the 1990s eager for more information about this newfangled “Japanese animation,” I ran into it everywhere. The super strong A-ko, the technologically savvy B-ko, and the crybaby C-ko defined anime itself, and their antics were the stuff of legends. What fan didn’t recognize them?

But while I “knew” Project A-ko, I never actually watched it. Less a secret shame and more an ongoing omission, this representative gateway anime of those early days just never crossed my path–that is, until Otakon 2021

A Brief History of Restoration

In 2019, Discotek Media announced that they were releasing a blu ray edition of Project Ako, and what began as a state-of-the-art transfer from laser disc eventually gave way to the discovery of an original 35mm film master long thought most to the aether. Fast forward a couple years and a pandemic, and Discotek brought the first showing of the remastered Project A-ko to Otakon attendees. What better way to experience this missing piece of my history?

And so I sat in among a crowded audience, a near-even split of longtime Project A-ko fans and newcomers. Because of my exposure and cultural osmosis, I knew too much to pretend like I was viewing it in a vacuum or with a blank slate. I had read the fanfics, I had seen the websites on Anime Web Turnpike. Now, it was my time to bridge that gap between hearing everyone else’s opinions on Project A-ko and establishing my own.

Story…?

Transfer students A-ko and C-ko are best of friends (or something more). Graviton High’s queen, B-ko, wants C-ko for herself, and she’ll do anything to tear the two friends apart. However, A-ko is superhumanly strong, and neither deception nor giant robots can stop her. Though not immediately obvious, the film was originally meant to be part of the Cream Lemon erotic OVA series before spinning off into its own thing.

The premise of Project A-ko is less a central driving narrative and more of an excuse. It’s a canvas upon which the creators display all manner of gorgeous and lovingly rendered animation ranging from slapstick to tense hand-to-hand combat to fanservice nudity to science fiction set pieces that could impress Moebius. In terms of technical and artistic perspectives, Project A-ko stands the test of time. In terms of artistic indulgence, it stands near the top.

I think how much you like Project A-ko truly boils down to how much you love animation for animation’s sake, how much the excitement and titillation of its myriad spectacles draws you in, and how much you can tolerate a paper-thin plot. I found myself somewhere in the middle, blown away by the sheer beauty of it all, but feeling the drag of nothing to truly anchor it, my attention started to drift halfway through. Yet, now knowing what Project A-ko is like now, it shines a whole new light on the fandom I remember from over 20 years ago.

Hindsight Is Hilarious

Project A-ko is comedy and satire, and I think that much is obvious if you’ve been exposed to plenty of anime. But while watching the interactions between the three core characters, I couldn’t help but recall the kinds of series-related discussions I would see as a young anime fan. Chief among them was the recurring hate lobbed at C-ko, with viewers frustrated that both the cute and feisty A-ko and the beautiful and elegant B-ko would devote so much attention to a loud, whiny, blond gremlin who seems like the worst kind of shoujo heroine. But in the wise words of McBain doing stand-up: that’s the joke.

C-ko is supposed to be obnoxiously innocent, from her shrill voice to her garbage-dump lunches she eagerly makes for A-ko. The way the haughty B-ko stares longingly at C-ko when the latter is at her loudest adds to the absurdity of their interactions. And unlike Mineta in My Hero Academia, who some fans find so annoying that the fanfiction site Archive of Our Own has a tag to indicate the removal of Mineta (and any traces of his history) from MHA, C-ko isn’t just some comedic side character. C-ko is essential to Project A-ko.

But I’m aware of the fact that Project A-ko hit the Western anime audience at a very particular time when there just wasn’t much anime available. Fans at the time took Project A-ko at face value, and it took the discourse around the movie in a certain direction that’s fascinating in hindsight. It’s possible I would have fallen into this trap myself—If I had watched Project A-ko back in the 1990s, I most definitely would not have understood that their class teacher is literally Creamy Mami, for example. In other words, “If a work of satire comes out in an environment where the target of satire does not exist, is it still satire?” 

Generational Differences…in Spaaaace

In the anime Darling in the Franxx, the characters eventually take to space to fight a greater threat. I often welcome this familiar trope, having grown up on it as a matter of course, and the studio behind Franxx, Trigger, is often known for this particular kind of escalation. But to a number of viewers, this is the point at which the show jumps the shark. To them, the move to space battles makes little sense, and nothing about what came prior sets up this little twist. In contrast, I think Franxx is at its strongest after this point, and it’s because I’m of the A-ko generation without having previously seen A-ko.

That fandom generation gap is evident in the constant presence of that Star Wars–esque science fiction/space fantasy aesthetic in Project A-ko. Spaceships, aliens, and beam weapons are mixed into the setting and the narrative, and while technically there’s a twist, the plot revelation component is less important than the pretense it allows for more fantastic animation. And of course, there really isn’t any science fiction in the thematic or philosophical sense—it’s all about the explosions. “Why wouldn’t you have a space battle?” asks the 1980s/1990s anime fan, and Project A-ko is designed to be a collage of all the things that anime fans of the era adored.

A Worthwhile Experience

While I know all too well the period in Western anime fandom when Project A-ko was a definitive anime—from the obsession with chibis to the limited reference material that shaped the perception of anime in a certain direction—I also know that I can never truly return to that time. I can only look at Project A-ko from a point where it’s not the mind-blowing, life-altering experience that introduced me to all of the possibilities of animation. But that’s okay: Project A-ko still has a certain charm that’s hard to deny. The lack of inhibition it conveys and the loving care put into every second of it still stand the test of time, at least in terms of spectacle.

Card Idol Project: Wixoss DIVA(A)LIVE

Wixoss DIVA(A)LIVE is the latest anime based on the Wixoss card game, and it combines three popular fandoms in one: trading card games, MMOs, and idols. The resulting show is one that has the potential to go in some interesting directions, but ultimately decides to play it safe in virtually every way possible.

Much like the series Gundam Build Divers, the main action of Wixoss DIVA(A)LIVE takes place in an online world where players can form teams of 3 and compete against other trios in online rankings through the Wixoss TCG. One of the keys to succeeding is that you not only have to be good at the game itself, but you have to get support from the audience, who can give players boosts through cheering. The protagonist is Asu Hirana, an energetic high school girl who dreams of being just like her heroes, the legendary team “Eternal Girl.” In order to pursue her goal Hirana brings along a reluctant friend, Onko Akino, and also ends up teaming with a girl known as “Absolute Rei” due to her cold reputation for discarding weaker allies. 

The first thought that popped into my mind when seeing Hirana, Akino, and Rei is that they’re practically dead ringers for the main trio from the original Love Live! in both appearance and personality. Hirana’s positivity is very Honoka-esque, Akino’s nervousness resembles Kotori, and Rei’s serious demeanor is just like Umi’s. I don’t know if it’s coincidence, a standard contrast in characters ideal for idol characters, or something else entirely, but the specific Japanese idol visual aesthetic of their online avatars is hard to ignore. While other teams are premised around different musical genres (hip hop, rock, EDM, etc.), in the case of the core cast, it’s like watching the second-years of Love Live! play Yu-GI-Oh!

Wixoss DIVA(A)LIVE doesn’t necessarily need to be dark and cynical, and I like the generally uplifting direction, but at the same time, I loved that the first franchise tie-in anime, Selector Infected Wixoss, was so wild and unpredictable. That one arguably wasn’t extremely original either, being a sort of TCG-themed Madoka Magica, yet the intensity of its characters and world made it feel more special.

In contrast, DIVA(A)LIVE is fairly fun to watch, but there’s never a sense of any real stakes. There are rankings, win/loss records, and all sorts of ideas introduced about how one succeeds in the game, but it all kind of feels arbitrary. Sometimes there’s a bit of tension, but all issues are resolved fairly quickly. In fact, there are a few episodes that introduce some real human drama, and it seems as if the DIVA(A)LIVE is about to take the gloves off, but even that is wrapped up neatly. The concept of fandom gatekeeping also shows up towards the end, but is never really explored.

Nijisanji VTubers cameoing

One interesting thing worth noting is that every episode has cameos from the Virtual YouTubers of Nijisanji— a perfect tie-in for a series about virtual avatars. Nijisanji girls have also made guest appearances in the actual card game.

Wixoss DIVA(A)LIVE ultimately ends up being average as a TCG anime, an MMO anime, as well as an idol anime. It’s entertaining enough, but it probably could have used some more teeth, though without necessarily needing to be dark and suspenseful like its predecessors. If it does get a sequel, I’d like to have a better sense of what they’re fighting for.

The Fight Against Oneself: Mobile Suit Gundam Hathaway

In my earliest days of online Gundam fandom back in the late 1990s, the vast amount of information available was like a treasure trove of juicy morsels about what was out there. Among them was mention of a certain novel—“Did you know there’s a sequel to Char’s Counterattack? It’s called Hathaway’s Flash, and it stars Hathaway Noah [sic], who pilots something called the Xi Gundam!”

Though I don’t recall ever asking questions out loud, chief among them were: “Would I ever get to experience this story myself?” and “Why the hell would they make a sequel about Hathaway?” 

Now, in 2021, we have Gundam Hathaway, a film (presumably the first of a series) that adapts the novel into animation. Story-wise, it follows Hathaway Noa, now in his 20s and a decade-and-change removed from the events of Char’s Counterattack. Leaders of the Earth Federation have been under attack by a mysterious terrorist named Mafty Navue Erin, and Hathaway’s own history leads to him being in the epicenter of this situation. 

The action is impressive and the character animation is gorgeous, though the lack of 2D animation for the robot fights is kind of disappointing even if the 3DCG looks good overall. When the Xi Gundam shows up, you get a real sense of the sheer size of the thing. Compared to even the oversized Nu Gundam and Sazabi from Char’s Counterattack, the long distance from cockpit door to seat sells how much things have scaled up. 

But the story of Hathaway, and his internal struggle, is where this first film shines most.

I don’t know how the young me back in 1998 would have reacted to the characters and narrative of Gundam Hathaway, but I think it would have been quite different. A couple years ago, I watched a theatrical screening of Char’s Counterattack, and coming at it as an adult instead of a teen gave me a whole new perspective. The young side characters, Hathaway and the Newtype prodigy Quess Paraya, weren’t irritating fools but simply kids who are failed by adults at every turn.

In this light, an adult Hathaway makes for a compelling protagonist. While he’s portrayed as being far more skilled in combat both in and out of mobile suits compared to his child self, he never comes across as inherently exceptional the way previous main characters like Amuro Ray and Kamille Bidan were. What you have in Hathaway is a child traumatized by war, and who’s trying to prevent his past mistakes from reoccurring as an adult, but who doesn’t necessarily know what the right answer is. Within him are the dueling philosophies of Amuro and Char, clashing and contradicting. He wants to be the everyman and the charismatic leader, the hero who saves the people from both corruption at the top and themselves. 

Nowhere is this clearer than his interactions with the female lead, Gigi Andalusia. She’s an eccentric empath who’s probably a Newtype or something similar, Hathaway sees the late Quess in her, and while she can be a thorn in his side, Gigi’s exactly the kind of person Hathaway fights for. If he can prevent more tragic deaths like Quess’s from happening, he’ll do whatever it takes.

I’m looking forward to seeing where Hathaway’s decisions take him, though I know this is Gundam and the chances of tragedy are markedly high—especially because the original novels were written by the original series director Tomino Yoshiyuki during one of his more fiery periods. Whatever the result, Hathaway Noa is a worthy Gundam protagonist.

Otakon-kon-kon: Ogiue Maniax Status Update for August 2021

For better or worse, I’ve decided to attend Otakon 2021 this year. And barring an even more devastating report about COVID-19 and the delta variant than what’s already out, it looks like I’ll be on track. I’ll be vaccinated and masked, and while it’s basically impossible to ask anyone to be the former just one week out from Otakon, there’s also a mask mandate for the event itself. Stay safe, everyone!

I have a single Otakon panel this year, and it’s actually one I’d been trying to get into the con for a while now. Come see:

Saturday Morning MILFs (18+)

Friday, 10:45pm–11:45pm

Panel 1

Did you know that kids’ anime has a long history of spotlighting hot moms?! They’re here to teach kids important lessons…and keep the parents from changing the channel! Explore the legacy of attractive mothers in Japanese animation and their continuing influence on the fandom.

Yes, I made an educational panel about anime MILFs. I looked at the schedule, and I’m the only 18+ panel on Friday, so it feels rather…daunting.

Anyway, I’d like to thank the following Patreon sponsors for supporting the blog and allowing me to indirectly research topics like attractive anime moms:

General:

Ko Ransom

Diogo Prado

Alex

Dsy

Sue Hopkins fans:

Serxeid

Hato Kenjirou fans:

Elizabeth

Yajima Mirei fans:

Machi-Kurada

Blog highlights from July:

Haachama vs. Brian Pillman: VTubers and Evolving Gimmicks

A comparison of the worlds of virtual youtubers and pro wrestlers.

Back Arrow Never Asks for Too Much

My review of the quirky mecha anime Back Arrow.

Oh, What Could Have Been: Maku Musubi Final Review

A look at one of my favorite recent manga that felt like it had more left in the tank.

Hashikko Ensemble

Chapter 42 brings new club members, including an arrival I’ve personally been anticipating.

Kio Shimoku’s Twitter account through July has him quote tweeting me!

Apartment 507

A review of Demon Slayer -Kimetsu no Yaiba- the Movie: Mugen Train.

Closing

If I see you at Otakon, I’ll be glad to give a solid thumbs-up from a safe distance. And remember: Wash your hands, don’t touch your face, wear a mask. Let’s make this a memorable convention where no one catches COVID-19.

And one last thing: I’m really, really looking forward to seeing Gaogaigo in Super Robot Wars 30. I hope I can finish the last novel before the game comes out.

The Slow and the Furriest: ODDTAXI

The anime ODDTAXI begins with a subdued and moody opening that feels mysterious and haunting upon first viewing. As the story progresses, it becomes increasingly clear that it’s the perfect encapsulation of the series: a mystery and drama whose complexity and maturity belies its furry aesthetic. But unlike other popular anthropomorphic titles in recent years (Beastars, Zootopia), ODDTAXI is less an allegory or thought exercise into a society of civilized animals, and more a noir tale that peers into the people’s relationships with modern-day vices.

When a girl is reported missing, a middle-aged walrus taxi driver named Odokawa Hiroshi is one of the last people seen with her. Brusk, awkward, and largely unremarkable, Odokawa has an unusually keen eye for human observation and his own sense of right and wrong—which reluctantly draws him into the seedy underbelly of Tokyo. 

While figuring out the truth behind the missing girl (as well as myriad other enigmas) is one of the main driving forces of the series, ODDTAXI is also a collection of character studies that spotlight the particular kinds of darkness that regular people face in the 21st century. While the cultural image of the noir genre is often rooted in an older era (think Sam Spade and The Maltese Falcon), here we have characters who are obsessed with the idol industry, exploitative collectible mobile games, social media clout, and more. The characters who fall victim to these addictions feel current, yet rhyming with a history of similar dangers in past eras. 

What’s more, these vices all tie directly into the main plot, meaning that the keen observations seen in these situations also provide a narrative function. 

Odokawa also makes for an interesting protagonist precisely because he often seems so ill-suited for the role. Noir protagonists tend to be flawed characters, but Odokawa’s deficiencies aren’t those of a grittier and more masculine type that one might expect from the genre, making him potentially more relatable to contemporary viewers. The fact that he’s fairly eccentric himself means there are plenty of questions surrounding Odokawa, and having the protagonist himself be surrounded with unknowns provides an additional layer of fascination. Fortunately, ODDTAXI delivers here as well. 

ODDTAXI is not a straightforward story, with many different threads running and getting intertwined into a web of relationships and motives. However, rather than feeling wholly disconnected, the anime turns out to be an excellent mystery with many seemingly disparate moving parts slowly fitting into a larger puzzle. The outcome is a series that treads ground in a way that feels familiar yet unique, and makes for both a really solid mystery and an interesting psychological look at how we try to mentally survive in society.

Play Therapy: SSSS.Dynazenon

The first thing to know about SSSS.Dynazenon is that you don’t need to have watched any of the prequels to get into SSSS.Dynazenon. Sure, its name implies a connection to 2018’s SSSS.Gridman, which is itself a sequel of sorts to the 1993 live-action Gridman the Hyper Agent. Even so, SSSS.Dynazenon is an insightful anime that stands on its own merits. 

The story of SSSS.Dynazenon follows a teenage boy named Asanaka Yomogi. After encountering an eccentric guy named Gauma claiming to be a kaiju user, his city is attacked by actual kaiju. Gauma is able to call upon a giant robot named Dynazenon, and Yomogi (as well as a few others) end up becoming Gauma’s copilots. With a different part of Dynazenon in each of their hands in the form of toys, they battle a group known as the Kaiju Eugenicists, who have the ability to control kaiju by bending them to their will. 

One question to ask when looking at many tokusatsu and mecha series is how much the characters’ primary motivations tie into the larger overarching plot and setting. In Gundam, for example, the connection is usually extremely strong—protagonists like Amuro Ray are thrust into the middle of long and painful wars whose physical and mental scars are the primary driving force of these narratives. Evangelion takes a different approach, forefronting the existing psychologies of its characters and using its science fictional setting as a means to explore their traumas. With respect to that dynamic, SSSS.Dynazenon falls a little more towards the Eva side, but goes its own direction.

SSSS.Dynazenon has a grounded feel that highlights both its characters’ personal histories and how their current circumstances as impromptu heroes impacts their views.  As Yomogi and the others battle, they’re forced to confront their own unique fears and values. Yomogi is trying to cope with his parents’ divorce and his mom’s new boyfriend. Minami Yume, one of Yomogi’s classmates, is emotionally distant ever since the mysterious death of her sister. Yamanaka Koyomi is a NEET in his 30s who constantly regrets not making certain decisions in his life (particularly a romantic one) that could have brought him down a different path. Koyomi’s younger cousin, Asukagawa Chise, refuses to attend school. Gauma searches for his past, explaining to the others that he’s actually thousands of years old.

While it can seem as if the fantastical elements are just a flimsy backdrop to the human drama at play, that’s not the case. Rather, one of the key strengths of SSSS.Dynazenon is the way that feeling both the added responsibility and thrill of fighting kaiju reshapes or reinforces their priorities and core beliefs. The fact that they carry around their respective vehicles like toys before growing them to giant size also makes me feel that there’s a link between the childish notion of “playing with toys” as a way to engage with the world and connect with others. In that respect, the antagonists of SSSS.Dynazenon, the Kaiju Eugenicists, seem to also have their own hang-ups but engage with them in less healthy ways.

SSSS.Dynazenon is also different enough from its predecessors that those who didn’t enjoy Gridman the Hyper Agent or SSSS.Gridman might resonate with this series. In particular, its characters are portrayed in a more subdued manner than SSSS.Gridman, where the central female characters, Rikka and Akane, cast a long shadow and often stole the spotlight through their sensual portrayals and powerful yuri energy.

Though I say that knowing the prequels is unnecessary to gain something from SSSS.Dynazenon, that doesn’t mean it’s pointless to have been a fan. Using my personal experience as an example, I came to the series cognizant of the fact that “Dyna” and “Zenon” are references to support robots from the original Gridman due to having watched Superhuman Samurai Syber-Squad (the Power Rangers-esque adaptation of Gridman the Hyper Agent), and later found myself excited over some mid-series character arrivals that call back to SSSS.Gridman. The key is that while the series does reward those with prior knowledge, it doesn’t punish those who are new and unfamiliar. 

SSSS.Dynazenon hints at ties to the prior series in everything from the title of the show to the character Gauma himself. However, unlike with SSSS.Gridman, the mystery of what exactly is going on is less of a core element and more an added bonus for existing fans of either one or both previous series. The core story—one of friendship and growth—remains.

Super Robot Wars 30 Thoughts, or “I MUST GET THIS GAME”

Super Robot Wars 30, the latest full game in the famed crossover video game franchise, has revealed its full lineup.

  • Super Electromagnetic Robot Combattler V
  • Mobile Suit Gundam (mecha only)
  • Mobile Suit Z Gundam
  • Z-MSV (mecha only)
  • Mobile Suit Gundam: Char’s Counterattack
  • M-MSV (mecha only)
  • Mobile Suit V Gundam
  • Mobile Suit Gundam NT
  • Heavy Metal L-Gaim
  • The Brave Police J-Decker (New)
  • The King of Braves Gaogaigar Final (mecha only)
  • The King of Kings: Gaogaigar vs. Betterman (New)
  • Code Geass: Lelouch of the Re;surrection
  • Code Geass: Lelouch of the Rebellion III – Glorification (New) (mecha only)
  • Shin Getter Robo Armageddon
  • Mazinger Z: Infinity
  • Mazinkaiser Infinitism (New) (mecha only)
  • Magic Knight Rayearth
  • Gun x Sword
  • Majestic Prince
  • Knight’s & Magic (New)
  • SSSS.GRIDMAN (New)

There are some welcome surprises among the returning veterans such as L-Gaim, but the real shockers are in the newest series.

Hell and Heaven!!!

The entry that sent a bolt of lightning through me is Hakai-oh: Gaogaigar vs. Betterman, which is the novel-only sequel to Gaogaigar Final that continues and concludes the story that began all the way back in 1997. I’ve been following the story, even having reviewed the first and second novels, but I wonder if fans might be better off not reading the spoilers in them so that they can experience this amazing sequel through the lens of SRW first. This’ll be the first time that Gaogaigo and its allies will be animated, and already it looks incredible. I await the SRW rendition of Gaogaigo’s Hell and Heaven with great anticipation, I hope we get to see and use a certain massive Betterman, and I’m guessing we’ll get the new opening and ending (that currently exist only in audio form) as BGM.

I also want to compliment the English localization team because I think “Hakai-oh” is such a difficult term to translate. Literally, it means “World-Conquering King,” and I think King of Kings captures that feeling nice and succinctly.

Burning Heart to Heart

Speaking of Braves, I honestly didn’t think J-Decker would ever make it in. Out of the entire franchise, I think J-Decker is one of the genuinely best shows, and I’m very happy to see Deckard, Shadowmaru, and the boys get their due. My dream is that there are some combination attacks involving Shadowmaru and Volfogg, but I’ll be content even without that. And If you want to know more of my thoughts on J-Decker as an anime, I appeared on an old podcast review.

Toku Time

Arguably the biggest appearance from out of left field is SSSS.Gridman. While it’ll fit nicely within SRW, the fact that it has its origins as an anime sequel to a tokusatsu series means there are just a lot of odd quirks to consider. In particular, Gridman is basically an Ultraman, and the closest we’ve had to mecha in SRW that move similar to Gridman are the EVAs from Evangelion—a show that is itself inspired by Ultraman. Given how this series ends, I also have to wonder how it’ll fit into the Super Robot Wars 30’s story, but what always comes first is making things look awesome.

X-TREME RADICAL Mazinkaiser 

As far as I can tell, Mazinkaiser Infinitism appears to have its origins as just an action figure of Mazinkaiser with a Mazinger Z: Infinity aesthetic. What’s funny about this version of Kaiser is that while the Mazinger Z in the Infinity film is a nice retro-modern update to a timeless design, even this Infinitism version of Mazinkaiser feels like it’s perpetually stuck in the 1990s—a Rob Liefeldian super robot that screams hypermasculinity. That was the case for its debut appearance (in a Super Robot Wars game!), the Mazinkaiser OVAs, Mazinkaiser SKL, and now this.

…And the Rest

I haven’t seen the recent Code Geass film, but I have fond memories of the near–train wreck that was Code Geass R2. I don’t know if there’s much for me to say here. As for Knight’s & Magic, I don’t know anything about it other than that it’s a mecha-themed isekai light novel. While it’s not the first SRW series with an isekai light novel origin (that honor goes to Aura Battler Dunbine), it’s still the first to be from a modern, post–Sword Art Online light novel. For that reason, I’m rather curious as to how it’ll be, and I might even be tempted to watch the anime.

See You in October

You damn well better believe I’m reviewing this game. 

Back Arrow Never Asks for Too Much

In today’s media landscape, it can feel like everything is about having an obsessive audience. Mobile games incentivize you to try to get every ultra rare and keep following a neverending story. Superhero movies, like their comic counterparts, want you to watch every single sequel and spin-off leading to the next mega film. Manga and anime want you to look into every character’s backstory and all the convoluted history that connects them together. These aren’t necessarily bad things, but they can be exhausting.

Under these circumstances, the anime Back Arrow is like a breath of fresh air because it doesn’t expect your total time and attention. Every episode, I would be entertained and intrigued; I might even have speculated what would happen next. But in a time when my mental space is being bombarded by world-changing events on the regular on top of all the aforementioned fan-forward storytelling, I like having an anime that’s just trying to be a sandwich instead of a 10-course meal.

The premise: Lingalind is a world of constant strife, with countries big and small vying for supremacy. Surrounded by a divine Wall that cannot be crossed, mysterious drop pods called rakuho fall from the sky and provide mysterious armbands known as Bind Warpers. These devices allow people to manifest their convictions and form giant robots called Briheights, and are the primary weapon of war. One day, a group from the tiny village of Edger finds a rather unusual rakuho containing a man with no memory—other than the seemingly insane notion that he comes from beyond the Wall. This man, who comes to take the name Back Arrow, is not only able to manifest a Briheight without having any conviction of his own, but is also able to defeat other Briheights without killing them, which was thought to be impossible. 

Back Arrow is like a cross between Gun x Sword, Star Driver, and Code Geass (even sharing the same director in this last case), only a whole lot less subtle. And given what those three series are like, this means watching Back Arrow is like getting hit over the head by two ham fists. The two major world powers are the Republic of Rekka, a hyper-exaggerated Dynastic China with Three Kingdoms elements, and the Supremacy of Lutoh, essentially pre-Revolution France with a seedy underbelly. Back Arrow and the residents of Edger Village all look like poorly dressed cowboys. But somehow, the anime ends up being really entertaining with endearing characters, lots of twists and turns, and some pretty solid action scenes—all without being bogged down or burdened with an excess of unrealistic ambition.

That’s not to say Back Arrow phones it in. The series’ narrative developments aren’t that surprising, but it’s never boring. In many ways, Back Arrow reminds me of really good pro wrestling. It’s ridiculous if you step back, but it’s easy to suspend disbelief thanks to the charisma of its presentation. Moreover, predictability isn’t a four-letter word, and in fact can be the foundation of some of the best stories because they have satisfying payoffs.