Japan’s famous all-female theatre troupe, the Takarazuka Revue, put up a recording of one of their performances for international streaming. The theme: Castlevania, the classic Konami video game series about fighting vampires, and half the namesake of the “Metroidvania” genre.
In fact, Castlevania: Awakening in the Moonlight is actually a loose adaptation of the franchise’s first Metroidvania, Symphony of the Night. It even starts with Richter Belmont’s refrain (in)famously translated as “Die, monster! You don’t belong in this world!” And after Dracula’s defeat at the hands of Richter, time jumps forward to focus on the main protagonist of this story: Dracula’s half-human son, Alucard.
Despite having traveled to Japan before, this was my first time watching Takarazuka. I had some idea of what to expect based on numerous cultural references in Japanese media, but all my assumptions were waiting to be defied or affirmed.
I believed Takarazuka to be non-stop singing, but that wasn’t the case. While it’s certainly a musical, the numbers are interspersed between spoken scenes. I also wasn’t sure how they would incorporate the action element of Castlevania, which turned out to be more of an interpretive dance-fighting that fits the medium, and largely takes a secondary role to drama, angst, and romance. That said, they do include some elements from the Symphony of the Night I had not expected.
And sometimes, something happened that would reinforce my preconceived image of a Takarazuka Castlevania while also throwing me for a loop. Namely, they somehow manage to incorporate the French Revolution into this thing, and Robespierre is even a prominent character! The Rose of Versailles is one of the Takarazuka Revue’s most iconic adaptations, so it’s not wholly unusual that they would use France as a partial backdrop to Awakening in the Moonlight. Nevertheless, making Castlevania more familiar and accessible to the typical Takarazuka fan in this manner is pretty amazing.
I believe all the music is taken from the games and adapted for the stage with lyrics and all. Given that Castlevania as a whole has a fantastic soundtrack, it’s not a surprise that they would take this approach. That said, it’s certainly different from other times they’ve added words.
I could tell that I was limited in some ways by the home viewing experience. While I definitely appreciate the opportunity to watch it from the comfort of my couch, I’m 100% sure that it pales in comparison to being there in person. There are parts that feel a bit long, but I wonder if the live spectacle would change the experience—I’ve seen enough musicals at this point to know this can happen. Maybe I should make the trip out to Takarazuka next time I have the opportunity.
Mabataki Yori Hayaku, the sport karate manga by Funatsu Kazuki, finished in 2025 after 12 volumes. It’s a series that I had been enjoying a great deal thanks to its ensemble of characters at varying skill levels and each with a unique relationship to karate, as well as the solid artwork that communicates the action and intensity of a match on both a physical and a psychological level. While MYH was clearly forced to end a little abruptly, I still think it’s a fun read overall and concludes in a satisfying way.
Kohanai Himari, a clumsy girl who gets inspired to learn karate after being saved by an upperclassman, is the main character of the story. Despite a case of mistaken identity where she confuses two twin sisters raised on karate (one enthusiastic about it and the other cold), Himari joins the school club, which is small and lacking in members. And while she seems ill-suited for any sort of athletics, the more practiced hands realize that she has unusually sharp and perceptive eyes. Soon, she’s practicing daily, growing alongside her teammates, and even gaining a few rivals, all while she and the other characters navigate the various forms of karate-centered drama.
Up until the end, the MYH is very consistent in terms of its sports manga appeal, and everything I wrote about it before still holds true. Seeing Himari come into her own as a competitor is wonderful, and learning the truth about the rift between the twins is satisfying. In the final volume, however, the story suddenly moves at a breakneck pace in order to wrap up everything and move all the characters into their intended positions. The climax of the series happens at a big karate tournament (naturally), and the results are satisfying in terms of the girls’ character arcs. The epilogue then puts them many years into the future to answer the question of “Where are they now?” I really do wish I could have seen the series get there at its normal pace.
Precure has been the juggernaut of girls’ anime for the past 20+ years, and the most common way for others to compete has been by making shows focused on music idols. So when You and Idol Precure was announced as the first entry to also incorporate this popular motif, I wondered how it might try to differentiate itself from the rest of the pack.
You and Idol Precure is a return to the beams-and-brawls style that had long defined the franchise but was minimized in the most recent predecessor, Wonderful Precure! In this way, You and Idol Precure is also a series that speaks to the legacy of both “magical girl as idol” (Creamy Mami, Looking for the Full Moon) and “magical girl as fighter” (Cutie Honey, Sailor Moon). I had high hopes that this season could combine the two sides in an interesting fashion, and while I think it overall turned out decently, I can’t help but feel that there was some wasted potential.
The building blocks are excellent: The premise of bringing joy and defeating doubt as idol magical girls is fun. The heroines are vivid and memorable in terms of personality and presentation. The animation, while at times inconsistent, can really shine, such as during big battles and transformation sequences. Side characters, be they allies or enemies, have a nice balance between seriousness and silliness. And the show tries to basically say that people have both light and darkness in them, and celebrating the former shouldn’t mean denying the presence of the latter.
But the series falters for me in two ways. The first is that its approach to the idol side feels both a little too conventional, and like it doesn’t lean into that side enough. The second is that the show doesn’t give its more interesting stories and themes enough room to really breathe and develop.
In regard to point #1, part of me hoped that the series would be them going around and having to live their careers as idols while taking down the bad guys. While this is not far off from what actually happens, I really think it could be more exciting. Similarly, every heroine in the series does a special song and dance as their finishing move highlighting their unique qualities: Cure Idol loves to sing, Cure Wink has a classic western music background, and Cure Kyunkyun is a dancer. Naturally, they eventually get group performances as combination attacks, but it ends up being the same ones on repeat, and the emphasis on what makes each Precure special falls to the wayside. If they had changed up the center based on who is the focus in an episode, they could have maintained this aspect.
As for point #2, there are a number of characters introduced that help give some depth and dimension to the world. There are narratives that involve dealing with sacrificing your greatest desires to help save the ones you love, ones about getting consumed by negative emotions, and even ones about guilt over succeeding where your friends and peers have failed. All of these have the potential to guide plotlines in ways that reward viewers over a longer period, but they are almost all resolved in one or two episodes. One story—involving a famous male idol who befriends the main heroine Uta and his desire to reconcile with an old friend—is probably the best executed of them, but I would have liked to see even more in that vein.
I know I’m not the target audience in most ways. I’m not a little girl or even much of an idol fan (despite my ever-growing interest in VTubers). In fact, seeing as I’ve now been watching Precure for over two decades, the gulf only gets wider with time. I’m aware of all this, and understand that what I want out of an anime is not necessarily what a 9-year-old wants.
But I’ve seen when Precure can make something for its core audience and still present something with greater substance. I don’t think this is a case of Precure failing to respect the intelligence of its young audience, as I really believe it’s trying to help them understand and process complex and conflicting emotions while providing great role models to admire and emulate. Rather, I believe You and Idol Precure could have been a more cohesive work that more deftly sews together all its best qualities to create something truly fantastic.
I’m late to the party, but I’ve finally watched KPop Demon Hunters. And while I doubt anyone needs convincing at this point, I will say that I think it’s worth checking out. It’s easy to see why it resonates so well with kids, but I find it accessible for people of any age who are open to heroines who are allowed to be goofy yet serious, a lot of musical numbers, and a message about a will that, for better or for worse, has been inherited across generations.
I’ll be spoiling the ending of the film, so here’s your warning.
The mix of Korean folklore and modern pop culture is an interesting place to tell a story about being afraid to show who you really are. In the lore of the film, Korean demon hunters have fought with both weapons and songs for generations, using their voices to create and strengthen an anti-demon barrier called the Honmoon. Rumi is the leader of the current generation, Huntrix, and she hides her greatest secret from even her teammates and friends: Rumi is actually half demon, and she wants to complete the Honmoon so she can be rid of her demonic side for good and finally stop hiding a part of herself, but begins to find her voice is faltering when she needs it most.
The Honmoon is one of the most interesting things to me about KPop Demon Hunters, because I think it does a great job of presenting both the good and bad parts of inheriting the actions and decisions of generations past. The Honmoon is a massive undertaking that has been continuously built up for dozens if not hundreds of years, and it has helped protect the people through hard work. However, it was built on the need for the singers who empower it to never show weakness, and this pressure is what causes Rumi to start breaking down. By the end of the film, she and the others remove the Honmoon and replace it with a new version that doesn’t place all the burden on the women and the need to project perfection at all costs.
I really like this metaphor because it doesn’t lump the actions of their ancestors as an unassailable legacy, nor is it purely a source of generational trauma. It is the product of decisions made in the past that were arguably necessary, helped build a foundation for descendants to survive and thrive, and ultimately helped Korea and humankind. But those choices are not beyond reproach, and naively following every aspect of them can harm people like Rumi who bristle against its pressure.
So KPop Demon Hunters lives up to the hype, and will likely end up being the Sailor Moon of a new generation of children. I can hardly think of a better work of art to carry that torch.
Apocalypse Hotel reminds me why I fell in love with anime.
Its story centers around the cutting-edge Gingarou Hotel, which is run entirely by advanced robots. Ever since a global pandemic forced the entirety of humanity off the planet, Acting Acting Manager Yachiyo and the rest of her fellow mechanized staff have been taking care of the hotel every day waiting for everyone to return. While they’re accustomed to getting zero visitors day in and day out, a guest of extraterrestrial origins suddenly arrives one day, setting the Gingarou Hotel on a long and path full of surprises.
Across 12 episodes, Apocalypse Hotel sets the bright and courteous spirit of hospitality against the darkness of its post-apocalyptic setting, drawing a sublime contrast that accentuates both growing hope and deep despair. Instead of going with a more self-contained format or taking a more serialized approach, Apocalypse Hotel treats each episode like a vignette along an enormously vast timeline. Some things remain the same, other elements reflect the fact that decades can pass between each episode, and the interplay between these two elements tells the story just as much as what’s happening on screen. I already love stories that appear episodic but are actually telling a greater narrative overall, and this series greatly succeeds at this approach.
The clever format is further supported by a gorgeous aesthetic and superb animation that’s both charming and moody. Whether it’s a festive dance number of an opening, characters maintaining the hotel daily, or even the occasional action scene, everything is depicted beautifully.
I think Apocalypse Hotel ends up being a great companion work to something like Frieren: From Journey’s End, which also similarly focuses on the long passage of time from the perspective of the long-lived. Whereas Frieren often looks at a past so full of history that half of it has been forgotten, Apocalypse Hotel peers into a future yet unknown and all its possibilities, all while focusing on the everyday of a surprisingly simple luxury establishment.
It took me a few years, but I finally got around to watching Season 2 of The Ancient Magus’ Bride, wherein the titular bride, Chise, attends a magic high school. I don’t believe I ever reviewed Season 1, but here we are anyway.
In other series, that might be the point where things fall into a comfortable routine and use the school setting to bring out the popular tropes. However, Ancient Magus’ Bride uses it as an opportunity for expanding the lore. Magic and sorcery are already portrayed in a fascinating and mysterious manner, and those qualities only grow stronger and deeper.
One of the most interesting things about this arc is the way it introduces peers for Chise. Until now, she has been surrounded by people significantly older than her, or beings far removed from humanity. But here we have teenagers close in age to Chise’s, each of whom have their own unique challenges but are shown as relatable for her. At the same time, the questions surrounding Chise’s own being only increase, and having your protagonist be a center of some of the enigmas makes for a compelling story.
I found the plot development engaging and hard to predict, and the ending made me appreciate the build-up even more. I’m ready for Season 3 with a renewed interest in The Ancient Magus’ Bride as a whole.
I’ve been avidly watching VTuber concerts both online and offline this year, and I just wanted to give my brief thoughts on a variety of events from 2025 that I didn’t write about otherwise.
holoX and La+ Darknesss
holoX celebrated their anniversaries around the start of December. While we have no shortage of talented dancers now, there’s still something that stands out about La+ Darknesss’s dancing. In particular, I find the way she moves her arms to be very appealing, and I suspect it’s because she really knows how to move her arms from her torso/core, rather than from her hands.
I also have been listening to Takane Lui’s recently released album, Lapis Lazuli, and kind of regret not getting the physical release. And of course, I’m beyond excited for holoX’s first live venue concert next year!
Myth
I think Kiara can get lost in the shuffle a bit, but what I’ve come to realize is that she’s very good at fully leaning into a particular quality. Some talents are always going to be cool even when they’re trying to be cute, or vice versa, but Kiara can go 100% in being cute, cool, silly, sexy, etc. in a given situation. Her concerts throughout the year really showcased this facet. Her performance of Fake Heart with La+ is my personal highlight (see above), though I need to mention the fact that she brought Ame for a guest appearance.
I’m looking forward to seeing her March concert with Ina, who’s been improving in her own right.
Rewinding things back to the beginning of the year, I’m also glad that people showed up for Calliope Mori’s second solo live in Los Angeles, despite the deadly wildfires that were plaguing the area. Also, what I’m about to say isn’t new information at this point, but I’m glad she continues to carve out a unique sound for herself.
REM Kanashibari and Roca Rourin
I plan on writing about her more in the New Year, but REM has quickly become one of my favorite VTubers. In addition to some convention concert appearances, she also had her first online concert, called Sleepover Stage. I find myself listening to their cover of “Murder on the Dancefloor” with Roca Rourin regularly. The two sound really good as a duet, and I hope to hear more of them in the future.
Flow Glow
Flow Glow, a hip-hop and pop–themed generation from the hololive branch known as “DEV_IS,” made a hell of an impact with their 3D debuts. Isaki Riona’s probably the best in the entire company at singing and dancing. Mizumiya Su is small but has very powerful moves that literally give her the most air time in hololive when she leaps. Kikirara Vivi backs her cute movements with clear dance experience too. And while Rindo Chihaya and Koganei Niko appear to be not as skilled, they’re both quite athletic in their own right, keeping up with the others and even bringing a lot of strength in terms of singing. Even more than their direct predecessors ReGLOSS, they are focused heavily on music and performance, and it’s clear how much experience they have.
ReGLOSS
Speaking of ReGLOSS, they had their first live concert this month, titled Flashpoint! It’s a great achievement, and you can really tell how much they worked on it. Ririka and Raden have noticeably improved in their weakest areas (dancing and singing, respectively), and while straining her voice in some places, Kanade is still the vocal center of the whole group. Hajime’s solo performance was amazing, and felt like a reminder to everyone that she’s no less amazing a dancer compared to her juniors in Flow Glow.
I do miss Ao’s sound, though. She was the only one with a deeper voice, and it provided a nice contrast to the rest of the girls. During an encore performance of their first single, “Shunkan Heartbeat,” the current members of ReGLOSS actually left a silent space where Ao would usually sing for one line, as if to pay tribute to their friend.
Vroom Boom Duo (Baelz Hakos and Todoroki Hajime)
This year was also when we finally got to see the two marquee dancers of hololive join forces. Bae’s Non-Birthday celebration featured them doing the song “Gingiragin” together, which was followed by a performance of “Bareru” for Hajime’s own birthday. The latter was one of the most impressive things all year because they were filmed with one continuous shot. Creative camera cuts can cover up flubs, and here they were, showing the world that they didn’t need any editing magic.
HIMEHINA
Hime and Hina really make clear just how comfortable they are as veterans of this space. At their 7th Anniversary concert, their ability to just match up with each other and harmonize is maybe second to none. Also, I mistakenly thought La+ would be singing with them, but she simply did a bit of MCing.
Suisei and AZKi
As the two former members of the now-defunct INNK music group, these two have had a specific and unique connection. It almost goes without saying that these two are among the best singers in hololive and VTubing, but when they perform together, they just work so incredibly well. AZKi’s almost flawless execution and Suisei’s powerful voice balance each other out nicely. Suisei these days is more popular, but AZKi is so subtly and deceptively good to the point that I feel like it can be easy to gloss over her. However, once you pay attention, you realize how incredible she is.
Tokoyami Towa
Towa’s husky voice continues to stand out in a sea of many talented singers, and I hope she can
Nekomata Okayu
Seeing Okayu go in so many different directions is pretty amazing. It’s one thing to get a solo live as someone who started off dedicated to making music, but to transition into it and then get a second solo live is downright astounding.
Phase Invaders Wish
I was glad to see the first gen of Phase Invaders get a group concert because they were my introduction to Phase Connect. The resulting event, First Transmission, successfully highlighted each of their strengths, even when some were clearly more practiced hands at performance than others. Lumi’s singing ability and Ember’s dancing skills made themselves apparent, and Jelly came across as comfortable on stage despite being inexperienced. Dizzy is the least stage-inclined of the four, but she found an answer in the form of sensual choreographies that took advantage of her fitness and flexibility.
I was convinced to check out the anime The Gorilla God’s Go-to Girl just based on the name. Turns out that it’s not just a silly alliterative title, but also an otome game–like reverse harem where a meek girl named Sophia Riller gets the powers of a gorilla and uses them to help others out and inadvertently romance the boys. It was originally a web novel, and the title translates to the much more straightforward The Lady Blessed by the Gorilla God Is Adored by the Royal Knight in Japanese.
The silliness is welcome, as is the somewhat incongruous setting. Watching Sophia swing around and subdue bad guys with great ape strength, as well as win the hearts of the knights are exactly the things I wanted to see out of Gorilla God. However, I have a problem with the show: It doesn’t go far enough. The content is about 40% gorilla antics at best when I think it should be 80%.
If they ever make a second season, I hope it’s able to lean into the premise even further, even if it means deviating from the source material a bit.
It’s remarkable to me how much Rental Family feels like a Japanese film.
That might come across as an obvious or perhaps even insulting comment, given that the director Hikaru is Japanese and the fact that it’s a Japanese/American co-production. However, to have a work with its aesthetics, storytelling, and subject matter get a wide theatrical release in the US—without being an import—feels special. A fair number of American films depict Japan or take place in them, but they don’t bring that same energy that one often finds in more contemplative dramas from Japan.
Rental Family is about Phillip Vanderploeg (played by Brendan Fraser), a white American who has been living in Japan for seven years while trying to find work as an actor. Despite some modest successes early on, it’s been a struggle filled with rejections. Desperate for anything, he ends up working for a “rental family” business, in which he and other employees play roles for clients to fulfill some need, be it emotional or pragmatic. Phillip’s acting skills help him with this line of work, but when he begins to genuinely make emotional connections on the job, it complicates matters for everyone involved in these charades.
Phillip’s boss mentions early on that mental health issues are stigmatized in Japan, and that people find other outlets to deal with these problems, of which the rental family business is one. The film does a good job of introducing this idea to a potentially unfamiliar audience without feeling unnaturally expository, and also while feeling like a criticism of a facet of Japanese society from an insider perspective. It’s a country somewhat infamous for having a lot of places to engage in parasocial behavior (host clubs, maid cafes, brothels, idol fandom), but it depicts this behavior in a fair and even-handed fashion that highlights its benefits as much as its downsides.
For example, while Phillip never engages in adult business for his job, he does visit a sex worker, and it’s notable how this is not portrayed in a negative light. While this is a relationship fueled by the exchange of money for services and where interaction is on a timer, they actually enjoy each other’s company and think highly of each other. At the same time, they’re both well aware of the “professional” nature of it all, and they leave it at that small bit of emotional reciprocation.
The notion of hiring someone to pretend to be your friend or husband (or even a journalist to make your aging thespian father still feel special) can sound pathetic. “What, you need to pay someone to spend time with you?” There are limits to playing “pretend,” and it can go terribly wrong. However, the film emphasizes the idea that this charade might very well be the catalyst that brings a person out of their rut or their crushing social situation, and a major part of Phillip’s development throughout Rental Family is the joy he experiences seeing his clients and/or their families healing psychological wounds to an extent. The job is both fulfilling and taxing on his mental wellbeing, and as the plot progresses, it can show how challenging it is for Phillip to navigate that balance.
I highly recommend Rental Family, but I actually want to end off by talking about a completely different example of a white actor who became a symbol of parasocial dynamics.
Billy Herrington was a gay porn actor who became a meme on the Japanese video site Nico Nico Douga before tragically passing away in a car accident. In one of his adult films, he wrestled another performer in a locker room while wearing very little clothing, and this became the endless subject of music videos, remixes, and parodies. There are many reasons this could be considered controversial or perhaps even offensive, but Billy became a minor celebrity in Japan as a result, and he even got to meet his fans at an offline event in Japan. While I don’t have a link to the original story anymore, I recall reports that some fans actually cried meeting Billy, and even told him how much he had helped them in darker times.
Ever since then, when I think about something being seen as silly or vapid, I wonder if it might still help someone overcome their own personal challenges. And while Phillip’s circumstances and means of changing people’s lives are not the same as Billy’s, I see his character (and the work of a rental family business) in a similar capacity, turning the “fake” into the “real enough.”
PS: At the very beginning of Rental Family, the film has a series of establishing shots of Tokyo, and in one of the shots is, I believe, an image of a Saber from Type Moon’s Fate franchise (though if you ask me which one, I wouldn’t be able to tell you). In Fate/stay night, the protagonist Shirou famously has a line saying, “Who says a copy can’t surpass the original?” in response to the notion that his replicated weapons are inherently inferior to his opponent, Gilgamesh the King of Heroes.
It might very well be a coincidence, but I can’t help wondering if that brief appearance was on purpose.
When I was a kid and Ronin Warriors first popped up on TV, it was one of the most incredible things I’d ever seen. The cool armor, the awesome villains, it just stood out against standard cartoon fare of the time. I even tried to make my own Ronin Warriors card game using a standard 52-card deck! No, the rules didn’t make any sense.
But while Ronin Warriors was something I look back on fondly, I’d never really experienced the Japanese version, Legendary Armor Samurai Troopers. The closest I got was the fact that I’ve often listened to the second opening, “Samurai Heart,” by the amazing Moriguchi Hiroko of Zeta Gundam and Gundam F91 fame. The original was always something I wanted to check out eventually, but I had it forever in the backlog.
What finally got me off my ass to watch it was the surprise announcement that Samurai Troopers is getting a sequel. While I’m sure Yoroi Shin Den Samurai Troopers won’t require viewers to remember everything about the first series, I figured it was as good a time as any to check this one off the list. And with a few decades between my first experience with Ronin Warriors and now, I wondered how I’d feel about this anime without the nostalgia goggles.
It’s Boys in Armor, All Right
The plot of Samurai Troopers focuses on five young warriors who can each summon a special armor with a unique elemental power. Together, they fight the evil forces of the Netherworld and their leader, the disembodied demon spirit Arago.
With its cadre of fiery yet angsty heroes clad in armor, the series is pretty much built in the image of Saint Seiya. I was completely unaware of that influence as a kid, but now, the fingerprints of Kurumada’s title (particularly its anime TV series) are all over Samurai Troopers. The series swings between its characters yelling as they launch attacks and give passionate speeches, and then having them yelling and moaning while being hit by enemy attacks—especially when it comes to protagonist Sanada Ryo of Wildfire. It’s a familiar combination of cool action stuff and dudes suffering handsomely, trying to appeal to both the kids eager to live vicariously through them and the older fans gushing over the characters and their popular voice actors, much like the whole multimedia experience we still see today.
A Focus on Style
I find Samurai Troopers to be good and fun, but not particularly great. The series is very spectacle-forward and reminiscent of soap operas in its dramatic moments: Plot twists, lore reveals, and even fight scenes are often more about vibes than trying to create a coherent narrative. Part of this definitely has to do with the fact that the series changed directors halfway through (over disagreements related to shilling of toys, apparently), but even without that, Samurai Troopers often seems to fly by the seat of its pants.
Some developments feel like they were probably planned to a degree, while others feel like course changes in the interest of playing to the audience and/or throwing stuff at the wall to see what sticks. The reveal about the true origins of the armors and the lead-up to the Inferno Armor that defines the first half are fairly coherent and overall entertaining, but the second half of the series comes across as stopping and starting every few episodes as if it’s in search of the right storyline to continue.
For example, after the midway point, they devote a handful of episodes to focusing individually on each Trooper. This is a welcome thing, but it’s strange to do this so late into the series. Also, for whatever reason, the episode focused on Shu of Stone is unusually well animated compared to the rest of the series. Elsewhere, Shu leans slightly more towards a comedic role, but here, he’s the biggest badass. And then, he and two other Troopers are kidnapped and basically out of sight for like six episodes as Samurai Troopers pushes Toma of Heaven into the spotlight with Ryo.
That said, the series has an undeniable cool factor that it keeps up well overall. When everything lines up, it does make for some really satisfying storytelling. The villainous warlord Shutendoji (known as Anubis in Ronin Warriors, where he was also the best) is probably the most compelling character in the entire anime because of his story arc and role as an honorable villain, and it often feels like later antagonists are attempts to replicate his success with mixed results. Incidentally, there’s a different character named Anubis in Ronin Warriors, which isn’t confusing at all.
Other Things
Speaking of Ronin Warriors, I was thinking about the localization choices, and while the changes are fairly substantial, they really are perfect for a 90s show for American kids. Arago’s Youja forces are subtitled in Samurai Troopers using phrases involving “Doom” or “Nether,” but it’s basically a combination of you (spirit, supernatural) and ja (demonic, malicious). However, in Ronin Warriors they’re Talpa’s Dynasty, which sounds awesome and menacing in English, even if the show definitely likes to conflate Japanese and Chinese culture. The fact that Samurai Troopers is basically Saint Seiya but hyper Japanese makes this funnier.
There are a couple recurring noncombatant characters whose main purpose is just to be the kid sidekick (Yamano Shu) and the female companion (Yagyu Nasté). Aside from some later plot relevance, they feel like audience inserts for their respective demographics. But Nasté is interesting to me because she’s kind of a prototype of Relena from Gundam Wing, which the first director Ikeda would go on to direct (and also leave). She’s not as forceful as Relena for most of the series, but in the sequel OVAs of Samurai Troopers, Nasté does get portrayed as a more strong-willed character.
Regarding the OVAs, they are much more fully out of the realm of toy commercial. The first two OVA series really pretty up the boys, double the angst, and give them lots of fashionable outfits to wear. The third, titled The Message, seems to interrogate the nature of trying to use evil objects to do good, but in a way that involves 50% existing footage and an overwhelming amount of narration by individual Troopers. While arguably being the most interesting in terms of ideas it presents, the format is a complete slog to get through.
Final Thoughts
Samurai Troopers occupies a kind of transitional space between different standard approaches to anime: It’s not primarily episodic, but it also isn’t committed to serialized long-form storytelling. The show wants to sell the toys to the boys and the guys to the ladies, but the ratio of its appeal shifts all over the place until the OVAs. All this is not so unusual; Samurai Troopers is hardly the first case of a work trying to find itself as it’s going, and even the Saint Seiya manga apparently went this way. However, I think this incongruity is more noticeable because the series doesn’t always follow through with its choices.
This might seem like I’m down on Samurai Troopers, but I’m really not. The way it clearly tries to navigate different audiences is fascinating to watch, and the excitement the title brings is undeniable. I think if I were a kid watching week to week, the way it swings between episodic and serial would make the latter parts feel that much more special.
So now I’m ready for the new show. It’ll be interesting to see how much the series leans into more recent tropes and how much it’ll try to match the feel of the original.
OGIUE MANIAX 