Canon vs. Fanon vs. Headcanon

“Headcanon” is an interesting term to unpack. It’s essentially an oxymoron that says, “I want to believe in how I interpret a given story over whatever the official narrative says,” making it a contradiction with a strongly postmodern bent. Headcanon, by meaning, lies outside of “canon,” but it’s also a different beast from “fanon,” which often carries a communal element.

As it has gained traction, headcanon increasingly butts heads with the other two. But while the battle of headcanon vs. canon might appear to be the more prominent fight for fans, I think what really defines much of the fandom divisions of the current age is the struggle of headcanon vs. fanon, and how this conflict plays out contributes to the extreme reactions seen in fandom online.

The creation of fanons requires two elements. First, much like headcanon, fans need to prefer some aspect of their own interpretations over something that is unsatisfying in canon by way of quality or omission. If Pokemon fanfic writers prefer a grittier world, it’s because the franchise is geared towards a kinder vision and they want something else. Second, there needs to be some kind of consensus. Not every fan needs to agree about a pairing, but enough fans must exist for a romantic coupling to gain traction, especially if it’s a dominant part of the fan discourse.

Headcanon, however, obviates the need for mutual agreement. The use of the term, though not inherently confrontational, carries with it a notion of the individual over the group. While fans might cross-pollinate ideas, it comes down to each and every fan, instead of what a community thinks.

This potentially leads not just to differing views of a work’s value, but also a disparity between what it means to be a fan and what it means to be in a fandom. Speaking from personal experience, over the years, I’ve gradually moved away from large, online communities to a closer circle of friends. Now, when I encounter “the fandom” of something, it can be like stepping into a foreign country, even down to being exposed to unfamiliar lingo. I wonder how my interpretations, headcanon or not, can differ so much from the dominant ideas in a given fandom collective.

In hindsight, this is rarely surprising. It’s uncommon for a single person to arrive at the same conclusion as a group, and even one group’s ideas will not align with another’s. A person who is truly alone, in the sense of not having others to talk to, would only have themselves to debate with. Moreover, when people form communities around a hobby, they have a high chance of bringing in like-minded peers; all the more so when fandom is a catered experience via Twitter or Tumblr.

Fanon isn’t some monolithic creature. There are multiple fanons, much like how it’s impossible to have every headcanon be exactly the same. One can even argue that a single property can have multiple canons, as long as it never fully defines which version is “official.” But the conflict between fanon and canon is generally old and fairly easy to understand. There’s what the creators say, there’s what the fans say, and even the most tightly controlled work will have moments left to interpretation. Moreover, because the Word of God, so to speak, carries a kind of authority, fanon is positioned as a kind of rebel entity.

But when the fight is headcanon vs. fanon, it’s the fanon that turns into the empire. If a lone fan wants to be accepted, they’ll have to take on enough of the assumed truths of the group, or be willing to encourage debate and disagreement. Because of how fans are so capable of tying their fandom to their personal identity and values, disagreements can hit close to home, or be seen as an affront to one’s beliefs. This is why a focus on social consciousness and progress, even though those concepts aren’t bad ones, can lead to a kind of zealousness that can create a negative image. The way a fandom thinks, even if it’s ultimately in a positive and beneficial direction, can become very hostile to outsiders, i.e. those who have not been baptized in the fires of fanon.

I think one of the major factors contributing to the ways in which headcanon, canon, and fanon clash is, likely to no one’s surprise, social media. It simultaneously allows people to connect while also in a sense isolating them from each other, while the internet itself has long been a space where beliefs, no matter how big or small, are defended seemingly to the death; one set of words vs. another. There’s no sign of it stopping any time soon, but I hope to see a greater awareness of the value of both individual and group mindsets in fandom.

Little Witch Academia Translation Trickery

Little Witch Academia has been out on Netflix since last year, and it’s a wonderful show worth everyone’s time. Having watched it with English subtitles, I’ve noticed a few hiccups here and there when it comes to the translation. These are not deal breakers, but it does speak to how translation is more art than science, and it’s worth looking into the fact that translating for anime and manga comes with its own share of unique pitfalls.

One unusual aspect of the translation that even non-Japanese speakers might notice is a tendency to avoid repetition despite it being present in the original Japanese. For example, a character might say, “Witches.” Then another character would ask “Witches?,” in response. In the subtitles, the first character would still say “Witches,” but the second might respond, “What are you talking about?”

This has partly to do with the fact that using the same word over and over again is not necessarily considered bad writing in Japanese, but in English (which is famous for its sheer amount of synonyms), this can make dialogue sound extremely awkward and unnatural. Changing up the vocabulary for English not in itself a bad idea, but it can run the risk of introducing ideas or words into a character’s speech that might not reflect who they are or what they would say. It creates room for inaccuracy even as it ends up sounding a little more natural, and it’s a tricky balance to maintain.

What’s worse is that sometimes the desire to make the English sound good can backfire. Anime and manga come out on a pretty constant schedule, with little lead time between chapters and episodes. Japanese as a language thrives on context to shape meaning, and terms or phrases are often left intentionally ambiguous, becoming clearer as the series goes on. Sometimes a phrase can be so awkwardly ambiguous when translated directly that a translator might feel compelled to massage it, only for it to bite them in the ass down the line. For example, a character whose gender is unknown can get away with never being referred to by gender in Japanese pretty naturally, but someone who doesn’t know this is an important plot point might assign a gender because gender-neutral pronouns in English are not entrenched into the language.

In Little Witch Academia, to a certain extent, one of the series is a quote from the character Shiny Chariot, which translates literally as “A believing heart is your magic.” It sometimes appears in the show itself, in English, so a simple solution would have been to use that directly, but it does sound a bit clumsy. The translator decided to go with “Believing in yourself is your magic.” Initially, this makes sense, as what exactly the heart believes in is unclear, and the heroine Akko uses it as a refrain to keep soldiering on. However, by the end of the series, this turns out to be somewhat inaccurate; it’s not necessarily that Akko believes in herself, but that she is able to believe in what’s possible.

Given that Little Witch Academia was released all at once on Netflix, there was the potential to go back and fix this, but I don’t blame the translator for not doing so. I don’t know what the schedule or system is like for subtitling on Netflix. It’s just a strong case of why translating is a tricky beast.

Familiar Fantasy: Mary and the Witch’s Flower

Miyazaki Hayao retiring from making films only to pick up his pencil once again is a running joke in animation, but just a couple of years ago the end of Studio Ghibli felt all too real, as a trio of announcements landed one after another. First, Miyazaki declared his retirement following the release of The Wind Rises. Then, Takahata suggested that The Tale of Princess Kaguya could be his last. Finally, Studio Ghibli itself announced that they would end film production. It looked to be not just the end of works by Miyazaki and Takahata, the two titanic figures that defined Japanese animation for filmgoers around the world, but also the end two the far-reaching, culture-crossing mainstream works that characterize Studio Ghibli.

However, while the studio itself had shut down, the people who made up the staff of Ghibli were still around, trained in the Ghibli style. Led by director Yonebayashi Hiromasa, a number of them for founded Studio Ponoc with the clear desire to keep making Ghibli-style films even without the brand name. Their first work is Mary and the Witch’s Flower, a film which is technically and artistically solid but seems to serve more as a message, that the “Ghibli film” can survive even without its most famous leaders.

Mary and the Witch’s Flower ticks all of the basic boxes. Based on a European children’s book? Check. Plucky young female protagonist? Check. Vibrant environments? Fluid animation? Sense of wonder? Check, check, check. Little is technically or narratively wrong with the film, but it seems almost cut from the same cloth as Star Wars: The Force Awakens; both works seem concerned with reassuring audiences that they’re going to get what they expect.

On that level, Mary and the Witch’s Flower delivers. It’s a film I’d easily recommend to those who enjoy Ghibli films, and while I consider the against-formula The Wind Rises to be my favorite Miyazaki work, I understand that the legacy of Kiki, Nausicaa, and Sheeta is important. As much as I value innovation in anime, I don’t think it’s absolutely necessary, especially when no one else had even tried to step up to the Ghibli plate, for better or worse.

One observation I had was that Mary and the Witch’s Flower lacked some of the minute polish of Miyazaki’s films—the man is famous for his obsessive attention to detail, only slowing down once age caught up with him. I don’t think this difference is a deal breaker, and if it spared the animators a little bit in terms of health and wellbeing, that’d be just fine. The film is beautiful regardless, though I think that the setting of The Secret World of Arrietty—Yonebayashi’s previous film—does a better job of showing off the Ghibli/Ponoc staff’s chops.

As proof that Studio Ponoc can deliver what they’re selling, Mary and the Witch’s Flower succeeds. Now, I want to see their The Last Jedi.

Join the Bakery: Kira Kira Precure a la Mode

According to anime, girls and sweets go hand-in-hand. That’s why it’s all the more surprising that the Precure franchise took this long to create a series specifically dedicated to a pastry and confectionery theme. But Kira Kira Precure a la Mode isn’t merely a baking-themed magical girl show—it’s also quite possibly the Precure most dedicated to its central motif.

Kira Kira Precure a la Mode follows Usami Ichika, a middle school girl who enjoys baking. Learning of a nefarious force that creates havoc by stealing the very deliciousness of desserts—their kira kiraru (sparkles)—Ichika’s resistance is rewarded with the ability to become one of the warriors of legend known as Precure. As Cure Whip, she is joined by other friends and Cure allies to save the sweets, and by extension the world.

Aesthetic themes found in Precure are developed to varying degrees from one show to the next. While Go! Princess Precure directly asks what it means to be a princess and makes this a major narrative focus, Yes! Pretty Cure 5 is a bizarrely eclectic mix. There are butterflies? And dreams? And they fight an otherworldly corporation? But Precure a la Mode goes all-in. The heroes are all based on desserts. Their attacks include chocolate swords and whipped cream. The villains are trying to corrupt pastries and snacks. There’s even a recipe of the week most episodes, and the kids at home can learn how to make all of them! By the end, the show posits the notion that the love and kindness that comes with wanting to bake tasty treats for others can act as an antidote for malice and apathy. A generous claim, perhaps, yet the surest sign that this anime is wholly dedicated to its pro-baking message. It can be a bit ridiculous at times, but I prefer this over not developing the theme enough.

The core cast of Cures is pleasantly varied without falling too hard into generic five-man team syndrome, but their differences are not limited to just their standard color-coded contrasts. While all of them are involved in baking, each of them comes to it in unique ways resulting from what drives each of them. Ichika wants to make people happy through baking. Arisugawa Himari (Cure Custard) is a student of the science of baking, and wants others to appreciate the chemical magic that goes into cakes and cookies. Tategami Aoi (Cure Gelato) is more focused on her dream of being a rock star, but sees baking as a similar space for her passion. Kotozume Yukari (Cure Macaron) excels in nearly everything she does, but her inability to make perfect macarons becomes her opportunity to challenge herself. Kenjou Akira (Cure Chocolat) is the handsome and caring type, who bakes as an extension of her personality, as well as a way to treat her sickly little sister to something delicious. Later additions to the cast, especially a darkly snarky villain named Vibry (or Bibury, if you prefer) further add to the cornucopia of characters that highlight the series.

The Cures complement each other well overall, but special attention should be paid to Yukari and Akira. First, their personalities are rather rare in Precure. Yukari’s wry cleverness makes her almost an anti-trope character, frequently figuring out tricks and traps that the typical magical girl heroine would fall for in any other series. Akira is pretty much a Takarazuka Revue star transplanted into the world of Sunday morning children’s cartoons. Second, both are in high school as opposed to middle school, which is the typical age range of Precure girls. Third, though never stated 100% outright, it’s clear that there’s some shared romantic feelings between the two, with episodes dedicated to their trying to understand each other. While Precure is known for its significant yuri fanbase, these two bring it up a notch by combining multiple franchise-defying aspects together.

Overall, Kira Kira Precure a la Mode is a strong and solid entry into the Precure canon. It doesn’t quite hit the extraordinary highs of some of the franchise’s absolute best, but it’s definitely enjoyable from week to week, carries nice messages about how everyone’s unique, and even pushed that yuri envelope judge a smidge further than expected. It’s capable of appealing to the absolute newcomers as well as those with long-time experience, almost like a perfect chocolate chip cookie—simple, yet profoundly effective.

Fan Fan Fine: Ogiue Maniax Status Update for February 2018

It’s February, also known in these parts as “new Precure time!” Satou Junichi (Ojamajo Doremi, Sailor Moon, Princess Tutu) helming the new Hugtto Precure! means I’m eagerly anticipating it, though I’m trying not to get my hopes too high up. As much as I love his shows, he’s not infallible or anything.

Whether you’re celebrating Valentine’s Day, the Lunar New Year, or some other holiday, I’d like to thank the following Patreon sponsors for their support.

General:

Johnny Trovato

Ko Ransom

Alex

Diogo Prado

Viga

Sue Hopkins fans:

Serxeid

Hato Kenjirou fans:

Elizabeth

Yajima Mirei fans:

Machi-Kurada

My favorite posts from January:

Down-Home Food Therapy: Atari no Kitchen!

A food manga I’ve been enjoying for a quite a while, I finally got around to writing about it!

A Strong Foundation: How the Japanese Smash 4 Tournament Format Helps the Community

A detailed look at what I believe are the underlying reasons behind Japan’s noted character diversity at high levels of competitive play.

“We’re Just Like You!”: The Empathy Scam of the Alt-Right

A post on a more serious topic: how the alt-right’s use of internet memes and subculture might act as false masks to lure in frustrated young men.

Return to Genshiken

Part 7 of my Genshiken re-read delves into the depictions of love and lust in my favorite manga.

Patreon-Sponsored

The Past and Future of Anime Blogging

I wax nostalgic about anime blogging but also how it’s positioned versus other mediums.

Closing

I’m high off of watching EVO Japan 2018 and seeing both Asuka and Shinsuke Nakamura win the Royal Rumbles. I’m also hyped for the new Kio Shimoku manga coming out this month.

May your February be as inspired.

Cardcaptor Sakura and the Alternative Canon: What is the “Clear Card Saga” Anime Following?

When the Cardcaptor Sakura: Clear Card Saga anime announced, one of the questions asked was, would it be following the canon of the manga or the anime? Although the two versions share many similarities, there are also some notable differences between them. Now that the new TV series has been out for little while, it’s evident that they’re acknowledging the old anime…but I have my suspicions that this wasn’t always the case.

One of the tell-tale differences between the two iterations of the original Cardcaptor Sakura is how they end. While both involve an exchanging of teddy bears as an expression of mutual love and a temporary separation as Syaoran returns to Hong Kong, the anime has this happen at the airport, while the manga’s version takes place as Syaoran is riding the bus to the airport. Also, while the anime has them reunite in the second film, the manga immediately follows this with a timeskip where Syaoran shows up to greet a now-middle school-aged Sakura. This is roughly the point where Clear Card Saga starts.

Prior to the premiere of the Clear Card Saga TV series, there was a special OVA released as a way to bridge the old and new anime. As seen above, this OVA takes its cues from the manga by having the bear exchange take place at the bus, and then transitioning to the middle school timeskip. With this, I assumed the matter was settled. The Clear Card Saga anime would definitely be sticking closer to the manga.

Then episode 1 hit, and things didn’t quite line up.

When Syaoran shows up again in the manga and OVA, he’s wearing a Tomoeda Middle School uniform. In the new anime, he’s wearing street clothes. Maybe this is just a timing or aesthetic issue. Perhaps it doesn’t make sense for Syaoran to have a uniform after just moving back. Maybe the fact that they show Sakura at school before meeting Syaoran means he couldn’t be there (because she or one of her friends would’ve inevitably noticed him walking around in uniform). Either way, here is a discrepancy from the manga.

But they also flashback to the teddy bear exchange, and it’s at the airport! That’s a scene that explicitly calls back to the anime and not the manga. Maybe they just did that for the convenience of the people who watched the old anime.

The smoking gun comes in episode 2, when the characters are having lunch together at school. During their conversation, Tomoyo asks Syaoran how Meiling is doing. The reason this is a big deal is that Meiling never shows up in the manga. She’s an anime-original character, and one of the many elements used to turn a 12-volume manga into a 70-episode anime. Whatever the case may be, we have clear unequivocal acknowledgement that the old anime’s events are either partially or wholly canon in the Clear Card Saga anime.

So why make that OVA? I suspect that it served multiple functions. First, it might’ve bridge the gap between series, as mentioned above. After all, it’s been about 15 years. Second, it could’ve been used to get the staff and actors used to working on Cardcaptor Sakura again. Third, I really do think the anime was going to follow the manga more strictly, as a way to keep things simpler, but that they changed their minds at some point. If this were the case, maybe it was because they realized many had only ever seen the anime, and thus would be confused by the differences.

While the old anime appears to be canon for the new show, the question remains as to how much will actually be different from the Clear Card Saga manga. Referencing Meiling is one thing, but what about having her show up? Will the new anime have more clear cards than the manga, just like it’s predecessor? And what of the fact that Sakura’s dad is a partial reincarnation of Clow Reed—a fact revealed in the manga but never in the anime?

Personally speaking, I wouldn’t mind seeing Yukana reprise her role as Meiling and treating us to some Kung Fu fighting.

“We’re Just Like You!”: The Empathy Scam of the Alt-Right

Internet memes and image macros have become increasingly associated with the alt-right and white nationalism, a connection that has been very intentionally fostered. As seen in The Huffington Post’s recent release of The Daily Stormer’s style guide, internet gags and self-deprecation are used to intentionally obfuscate the sincerity of their racism. This simultaneously camouflages their true purposes from those not in the know, communicates with those in their movement, and potentially entices edge cases to slip further and further into indoctrination. While all of this is highly alarming, that last point concerns me in particular because I believe it to be part of an very intentional and long-standing scheme to target and slowly brainwash confused, scared, and vulnerable men.

4chan has had an enduring reputation as a cesspool of human interaction, where posters under the guise of anonymity are unafraid to pull punches or go for ad hominem attacks whenever possible. At the same time, as sexist and caustic as it could and can be, it didn’t always act as a haven of extreme right-wing thought. What has persisted through this transformation is that emphasis on self-deprecating internet humor as seen in image macros, purposely stunted and incomplete English, and posts written as series of actions, e.g.:

>Went to the store
>Saw a girl
>She gave me a look

Another example is the now-antiquated internet phrase “pee in her butt.” I’ve seen articles and people unfamiliar with that 4chan culture have trouble parsing its meaning or taking it literally. However, it does not mean “urinate in her butthole,” it means “ejaculate in her vagina.” The word choice is basically implying that the user is so unfamiliar with how sex works that they’re confusing the liquids and physical parts involved; it’s a jab at one’s pathetic self. That’s the sort of obtuse humor that can block outsiders, and failure to understand that mentality means they remain defensive.

While I don’t visit the 4chan anymore, in my earlier years I did browse it fairly often and noticed that examples of this toxicity often were cries for help in disguise. These posters should not go without criticism for their language and slurs, but their choice of vocabulary also would function as a defense mechanism to keep outsiders away, allowing only those of a similar mind or spirit to commiserate with them or even give advice. This, I suspect, is the hole that the alt-right has exploited. By speaking the language of memes, they falsely present themselves as friends and kindred spirits.

As much misguided anger that exists within places like 4chan, 420chan, and the defunct reddit incels board, on some level the posters who might potentially turn to extreme sexism and racism are simply looking for people who understand them. The abrasive presentation and the willingness to “outrage” others is a way to protect the scared little boy deep inside, and to only allow in those who can empathize. The insidiousness of the alt-right’s adoption of meme culture is that they can come across as brothers in arms, but are possibly more like an abusive drug peddler eager to get their victims hooked on their own frustration and pity.

So where is the other side, those who try to pull people away from such harmful thinking and towards more benelovent and inclusive ideas? The answer is that many have run away, myself included, and this has created a void that’s increasingly filled by questionable philosophies. It used to be that 4chan had many different people with different views clashing with each other, but only those who can still maintain themselves in that space and not get subsumed by the monster can thrive. In other words, one needs to fit into the 4chan environment (or places similar to it) without succumbing to the same close-minded mentalities frequently seen there.

This isn’t blaming anyone who decided to step away from places like 4chan for their own sanity, nor those who haven’t dared try to enter in the first place. Part of those environments is indeed trying to make them as inhospitable as possible for perceived outsiders. Again, it’s a defensive measure, to attack before you’re attacked, and people just generally don’t like being on the receiving end unless they’re the rare sort that thrives on conflict and arguing. It’s also not like those who gradually turn more extreme-right-wing should be absolved of responsibility, nor that existing prejudices and misguided beliefs should be ignored. But it still means that there’s precious fewer individuals providing an alternative viewpoint to the alt-right in those spaces. Excessive compromise and concessions aren’t necessary, but patience and compassion are vital.

Kino’s Journey: The Ubiquity of the Light Novels vs. the Scarcity of the Anime

How do you end a series about observing humanity’s foibles with an action sequence involving a flock of angry sheep?

The answer is, “Who says it’s an ending?”

The 2017 anime of the light novel Kino’s Journey: The Beautiful World is garnering mixed reviews. This is partly because the series seems to be less focused on atmosphere and consistent theme compared to the 2003 version, despite them taking from more or less the same source material. One major point of contention with the newer series is its choice of final episode, adapting the story “Field of Sheep”—a story that borders on Schwarzenegger-in-Commando-esque antics featuring a ring of fire, driving through sheep in a jeep, and a dramatic lone gunman standoff with the woolly foes.

Because the anime clearly skips around chronologically from episode to episode, I decided to take a look at which episodes come from which chapters. Out of a currently 21-volume light novel series, most are taken from around volumes 7 through 9. “Field of Sheep” is by far the newest story, coming in as the final chapter of Volume 20. It’s likely even the latest chapter at the time the 2017 anime went into production.

It seems unusual to end a series on such an odd note, but that’s only within the context of the anime. Kino’s Journey rarely gets new adaptations. There’s the 2003 series, the 2017 one, and two films in 2005 and 2007 in between. It’s been 14 years between TV series and 10 years between animated versions. It’s possible that it’ll take another 10-15 years to get another one, perhaps leaving fans scratching their heads.

But for light novel readers, it can’t really be considered an end by any stretch of the imagination. Even though it’s the last part of Volume 20, the sheep story is yet another entry into the world of Kino’s Journey, which shows no signs of stopping. A new volume has come out pretty consistently (about once or twice a year) for the past 17 years. Volume 21 just came out in October of 2017. In other words, to the anime viewer, “Field of Sheep” is an unusual curtain call. To the light novel fan, it’s just another stop in Kino’s travels.

I have to wonder if the point of adapting that sheep episode last is just a way to say, “Read the light novel!” Except, it only works in Japan (or if you can read Japanese). For those abroad who rely on anime to get their Kino’s Journey, they’re left in an arguably baaaad situation.

Like what you read? Consider sponsoring my Patreon!

 

 

 

 

Dagashi Kashi Confuses Anime Fans: Pre-Season 2 Hype (?) Post

With the new season of Dagashi Kashi starting up, I wanted to tell my readers about one of my favorite activities as of late: reading reviews of the first Dagashi Kashi anime on MyAnimeList.

The reason is that I take an odd pleasure in seeing innocent anime fans grapple with Dagashi Kashi. While the show has its fair share of positive comments, it also sports around a 6.7 rating—pretty low for the site. Many of the reactions from MAL users involve a combination of puzzlement and frustration over what Dagashi Kashi is. These reviews are typically along the lines of, “I thought this was going to be some epic fanservice romance but all they do is talk about snacks for 25 minutes!!” Those viewers wanted 90% rom-com, 10% snacks. Instead, they got the opposite.

Dagashi Kashi is clearly not a show for everyone, given its odd premise and eccentric cast of characters. But as the new season coming in the next few days, I’m looking forward to more flabbergasted expressions from people who decide to jump in for the hell of it.

As for me, I can wax poetic endlessly about the show, and I voted Shidare Hotaru “Best Female Anime Character of 2016.” To say I’m looking forward to Dagashi Kashi S2 is an understatement.

The Moment I Waited For: When Love Live! Sunshine!! Acknowledged Mari’s Love of Industrial Metal

One of the small but perhaps inevitable issues I’ve had with Love Live! Sunshine!! is the incongruity between the characters from one medium to the next. This is even noticeable when looking at different side stories in the School Idol Festival mobile game, where character behavior in the early ones are more subdued and safe compared to the later ones or the anime, as if the actors and writers were trying to feel out the characters. While I largely prefer the anime due to its overarching story and the chance for more character interaction, there was something missing from Love Live! Sunshine!! Ohara Mari’s official profile describes one of her interests as industrial metal, but the show made no reference to it at all.

Fortunately, that changed in Love Live! Sunshine!! season 2.

In an episode focused on the personality clash between the introverted first-years and the extroverted third-years, Mari’s music pops up as an illustrative gag. When they try to write a song together, they look for influence from the music they enjoy, and Mari plays a favorite from her collection that knocks the first-years off their feet. It’s not an entirely throwaway joke, but rather a way to emphasize their personality difference and increase the conflict of the episode.

Beyond the simple fact of it happening, I also enjoy the acknowledgement of Mari’s musical tastes because it brings into the world of Love Live! a very different music genre from what’s typically expected of a series focused on pop-y idol music. Love Live! as a franchise has some songs that go off the beaten track, like “After School Navigators” and “Suki desu ga suki desu ka?”, but they’re a rarity—much like men in their world.

Mari’s metal is actually one of many cases where season 2 of Love Live! Sunshine!! started to reflect the characters’ personalities from other mediums more, while also pushing those characters forward. Kanan seems specially serious in the first season because they had to develop the backstory of the third-years and it requires some tension between them. In the second season, she’s more balanced between jokey and stern, turning up one or the other when necessary. Similarly, Hanamaru’s personality has gone from shy bookworm to gluttonous memelord, and it feels like a natural progression because of how much she hangs out with Yoshiko. In a way, it’s fascinating to see a franchise find its feet over time, and I wouldn’t mind seeing another form of Love Live! go through this again.

Like what you read? Consider sponsoring my Patreon!