Dare to Defy the Past: Soaring Sky! Precure

20 years of Precure is an astounding milestone, so it‘s only appropriate for this magical girl franchise to celebrate hard. To wit, we’ve seen a sequel where characters are all grown up, gallery exhibitions, a concert, and of course, the latest main entry: Soaring Sky! Precure.

Known in Japan as Hirogaru Sky! Precure—hirogaru meaning “expand or spread,” and also being a pun on “hero girl”—the series stars Sora Harewataru, an aspiring hero and a resident of a magical world called Skyland. When the king and queen’s baby, Ellee, is kidnapped by an agent of the Undergu Empire, Sora uses her superhuman athleticism to chase down the culprit, but a mishap causes them to all end up in the human world. Sora needs the power to protect Ellee, and she soon discovers it: Ellee has the latent ability to help create fighting magical girls called Precure.

In many ways, this isn’t unusual for Precure, but there is one immediate difference that is crucial: Sora Harewataru is blue.

To those unfamiliar with Precure as a whole, that might not seem like a big deal. However, throughout its long history, pink has been the dominant motif of all but one protagonist: the original from 2004, Cure Black, and even she has pink highlights. Chalk it up to marketing or heteronormativity or whatever, but that’s the standard Sora Harewataru, aka Cure Sky, defies just through character color alone. 

Along with her athletic tomboy personality and her desire to become a hero who fights to protect others, Sora feels like both a return to the roots of Precure but also a pivot into uncharted territory. Her presence is a signal that Soaring Sky! breaks all the rules of what Precure is supposed to be like, and as more Precures join the team, other “expected standards” start to fall like dominos. Why does the pink-haired girl have to be the lead? Why can’t a boy become a Precure? Why can’t an adult? This habit of asking itself and the audience “Why?” becomes a central thread of the series.

Soaring Sky! is conceptually one of the strongest series in the franchise, and it largely succeeds in its execution. The characters all feel very distinct and memorable, and not just because they depart from established norms. Whether it’s the gorgeous and personality-filled transformation sequences or the interactions, they feel realized as unique individuals. One of my favorite early moments comes from when Sora is attending school in Japan for the first time and shouts with gusto, “YES! I AM VERY SHY!” despite being a very straightforward person who also happened to break every school athletic record (and can shatter boulders with her fists untransformed).

The villains also end up having a lot more depth to them than many past entries, with some of the most interesting arcs for them across Precure. Even the final boss is given more development than usual. And one of the potential biggest drawbacks, the constant presence of a baby, turns out to be one of the show’s strengths.

That said, it can sometimes feel like certain characters just aren’t getting enough attention. The way the show portrays the aforementioned adult-age Precure, Cure Butterfly, often comes across like the creators weren’t entirely sure how they wanted to convey her relative maturity to a young audience. In her better moments, she’s shown providing a perspective her younger teammates lack, but she often seems kind of distant. Compared to The Power of Hope: Precure Full Bloom, Butterfly ends up feeling a little flat, though I wonder if that’s the difference between trying to write sa mature character for children vs. writing one for adults.

The highs of Soarin’ Sky Precure are (appropriately) very high, but the show can get a little overly meandering, and it doesn’t live up to its potential in every instance. However, the show is trying to do a lot, and it still works by refusing to confine the possibilities of what Precure can be. As the series moves from start to finish, the series asks why “the way things are” can’t change for the better, and why can’t we be the ones to accept the possibility of a brighter future.

The Gargantuan Shadow of Trauma: Godzilla Minus One/Minus Color

Godzilla is practically a genre unto itself. With a 70-year history, the movies featuring the world’s most famous reptilian titan have run the gamut, from  thought-provoking to spine-tingling, and silly to somber. Now, the franchise has entered the Reiwa era with one of its most unique entries in Godzilla Minus One, winner of the 2024 Academy Award for Best Visual Effects.

The actual title of the movie piqued my curiosity upon seeing it—what does “Minus One” even mean? The answer is a work that has decided to go the opposite direction of most remakes. Rather than asking what would it be like if Godzilla emerged in [insert modern era here], Godzilla Minus One moves the clock back and explores what it would have been like had Godzilla arrived at the end of World War II. Specifically, the story is about Shikishima Koichi, a would-be kamikaze pilot who ran away from the grim fate set out for him, and whose encounter with Godzilla instills an additional level of trauma in him.

The most powerful thing about the film is the complex emotions that not just Koichi but everyone around him are processing in the aftermath of World War II. An old neighbor looks at him as a traitorous coward, but dire poverty forces them to make a connection. Koichi forms an erstwhile family with a woman named Noriko and a young orphan named Akiko, but his desire to provide for them is tinged with a refusal to see a happy future with them out of guilt for all the soldiers who couldn’t make it back to their families. 

The version of the film I watched was called Godzilla Minus One/Minus Color, meaning it was done in black and white. Going in, I wondered if it was just novelty, but the fact that it takes place in a time before the original Godzilla’s release makes the aesthetic decision very appropriate for the period.

In a way, Godzilla Minus One and Koichi serve as another perspective of a feeling present in another Japanese film about the wartime era: In This Corner of the World. That film shows how the constant message of “sacrifice yourself for the war effort” affects the civilians in ways they don’t even realize until everything comes tumbling down, and Godzilla Minus One looks at how a soldier is affected by the same propaganda. On the surface, there are times when the film seems like it might be saying something worrisome about bringing back the glory of Japan, but it’s ultimately much more complex and anything but jingoistic.

Koichi’s actor, Kamiki Ryunosuke, delivers an amazing performance that tears at the heart and soul. Incidentally, I had recently watched him in the live-action movie adaptation of JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure: Diamond Is Unbreakable Part 1, where he plays another character named Koichi. In that work, Kamiki is far and away the best actor despite being in a supporting role. I later found out that he’s actually been a voice actor since childhood, appearing in multiple big animated films from Miyazaki Hayao and Hosoda Mamoru. Out of this illustrious career, Godzilla Minus One might be his finest work ever.

I applaud the makers for going this hard with a franchise film that’s meant to transition into a new era in Japan. It could have been all too easy to play it safe, but this one looks just as inward at Japan’s history and problems as Shin Godzilla and even the original. Let the Universal films bring the action—Minus One encompasses the other end of the grand Godzilla spectrum.

Eating Among the Trains

Continuing my visit to train and train-adjacent locales in Japan, here are my thoughts on two eateries in and around Tokyo: Platinum Fish Cafe and Curry Niagara.

Platinum Fish Cafe

A plate with a small round cake, some vanilla ice cream, and some whipped cream

Located in Chiyoda-ku, Tokyo, Platinum Fish Cafe is actually inside of an old decommissioned train station. It has some standard food options, like curry, pasta, and cakes, but also drinks named after different train lines. I got the Yamanote (the loop that goes through Tokyo, Akihabara, Ikebukuro, and other stops), which was actually double muscat grape flavor. Between this, the Love Live! cafe, and other places, muscat grapes seem to be popular. 

The real appeal of the cafe, however, is the view. Platinum Fish is situated between two train tracks, and you can see them zooming past on both sides pretty regularly. For those coming from NYC or elsewhere in the US, this might sound like torture you inflict on your worst enemies. In Japan, though, the trains are smooth and relatively quiet. It actually makes for a relaxing experience, if you like urban ambience and a nice cityscape.

Curry Station Niagara

A plate of hamburg curry, with the rice in a football shape, cheese sauce on the hamburg steak, and plenty of curry sauce

This place has been on my bucket list for many years now: a curry restaurant run by a huge train enthusiast. 

The inside is covered wall to wall in rail travel memorabilia and paraphernalia, including some Galaxy Express 999 merch. Right outside the door are a couple gashapon machines with replica train station signs, specifically branded for Curry Station Niagara. Close by is a play area for kids featuring model trains and other toys.

Almost everyone in line was parents accompanying their train-loving little kids, and it was downright adorable. There’s a track not far from the restaurant, and as one passed, I could hear a kid identifying a passing train’s line as “Yokohama navy blue”—the rail system is indeed color-coded. As someone with younger relatives, I could see parallels, and wondered if those relatives would have also become train fans if they lived in Japan.

If you get a seat at the tables, a miniature train delivers your food straight to you. Because the space is very small and there were lots of kids, my group opted to sit at the counter and not deprive the young ones of that experience.

The menu is mostly pretty typical, with different toppings like tonkatsu and such, but there are also a few curve balls: extra spicy options for a premium price, curry spaghetti, and so on. I went with the Hamburg steak curry, which did not disappoint. It had a bit of a kick, but nothing overwhelming. However, one person I was with seemed to have gotten their curry cold by accident. After our meal, we got commemorative replica train tickets.

Overall Thoughts

I love restaurants just run by some person with a passion. This includes Platinum Fish and Niagara, but they’re relatively common in Japan. While making money is important, these places feel like they’re humbly dedicated to a craft or a desire to share something with their customers. I really wish more places like this existed in the US, but with real estate prices and rent being what they are, I sadly don’t see it happening anytime soon. One can hope, though…

The La+ Darknesss Solo Live, the hololive EN “Mind Craft” Cover, and Other Recent Music Events

A lot of cool music-related things have happened in hololive land over the past few months, so I just wanted to give some brief, unorganized thoughts about them.

La+ Darknesss Solo Live: Waku Waku Nightmare

La+ had her first solo concert a few days ago, and the paid VOD (3300 yen)  is still available until March 1, JST. The event was sponsored by Nissin, the original instant noodle company, and La+ recently became a spokesperson for their U.F.O. brand of yakisoba. Note that the site is Japanese-only, and that when registering, you can put all 0s as your phone number. (Also, there’s a Koyori solo live on April 7, JST.)

As a La+ fan, I’d been hoping for something like this for a while now. While I could talk endlessly about this event (check out her final song, “Kurai”), I just want to highlight a couple things that stood out to me.

La+ actually started off with “Kamippoi Na,” which was her very first cover song back when she debuted, and she decided to sing with a deeper voice in contrast to the the whispiness of her recorded version. The choreography was also completely different from the time she covered it with Murasaki Shion. What’s really fascinating, though, is comparing her dance to that of Hakos Baelz. Both are among the very best dancers in hololive, and you can see how their respective styles come through on the same song: La+ is smooth, while Bae is dynamic.

Towards the end, La+ performed “Aien Jihen,” her first original song, and something she hadn’t pulled out since her original 3D debut. Back then, she had decided to perform the dance against a pre-recorded vocal track because of the challenging choreography. This time, however, La+ did both the song and dance, showing the progress she’s made, but also how she’s worked through a collarbone fracture from her COVID cough, a hiatus for her mental health, and throat issues, among other setbacks.

One thing I noticed during this performance of “Aien Jihen” is that the choreography has changed in some ways since she last showed it. These might be adjustments designed to make it easier to perform while singing, but I also suspect that she actually modifies her dances depending on whether or not she’s wearing her massive coat. Note in the above images (during the line “Nothing bad happened”) how La+ is leaning forward in her 3D debut but is leaning back during her solo live. I feel like the silhouette in the first image wouldn’t be quite as strong without the coat.

Ray (covered by Generation 0)

Recently, I was trying to decide which generation is the strongest musically…and then the Japan Generation 0 cover of “Ray” came out. Suisei, Sora, and AZKi are in the top echelon of Holo singers. Roboco’s sound has this haunting quality, and Miko pulls off “cute idol” while maintaining her signature voice. The closest second is probably Indonesia Gen 1.

Mind Craft (covered by hololive English)

Hakos Baelz organized a cover of “Mind Craft” with the entirety of hololive EN, and everything about it is amazing. The balance between giving the fans familiar combinations of individuals and unexpected ones really makes it a journey of a song. My highlights are IRyS + Nerissa, and how Bae herself is presented as a modest “leader” of the whole thing, both in how she has only a few solo parts but at pivotal moments, and her literal outfit looking like a ringmaster’s. Speaking of which, the character art is some of my favorite ever for hololive, and I hope there’s a way to own it someday.

Bae also did a stream where she talked in detail about getting the song and music video produced, and I think it’s worth a listen.

2023 to 2024 Countdown 

The New Year’s countdown was fun just like last year, and I’m glad to have seen new girls get in on the Shuffle Medley fun. Naturally, La+ as Kiara performing “Do U” stole the show for me.

But I wanted to look more at the fact that the hololive and holostars streams had different performances of the same songs, with distinct choreographies. Specifically, it was “Idol” from [Oshi no Ko] and “Dai Zero Kan” from The First Slam Dunk

The guy versions are more “masculine” in approach (like the basketball-themed dance moves in “Dai Zero Kan”), and it makes me think of something I read in the dance manga Wandance: It tends to be the case that guys don’t learn “girly” moves. Issues of heteronormativity aside, it’s still fun to see different interpretations of the same songs.

hololive KDA

I wrote about the Riot Games One 2023 KDA cover performances previously, but I’m bringing it up again because I’ve been thinking about something in particular: The hololive version shows some of the limits of the 3D technology, and where it has room to improve. 

Putting aside the skill difference between the hololive girls and full-on professional dancers, there are definitely moments where the 3D can’t quite capture certain subtleties, or where certain moves don’t quite read correctly. For example, during “POP/STARS,” one of the performers is supposed to be a bicep flex, but this just doesn’t get conveyed when La+ does it.

That’s it for now! Who knows if I’ll do one of these again?

Shinkalion and Japan’s Railway Museum

On my winter 2023 trip to Japan, I happened to do a good deal involving trains and train accessories. This is Part 1 of my experience, focused on the Railway Museum in Omiya, Saitama.

The Railway Museum

Owned and operated by Japan Railway, the museum features exhibits about the country’s trains, as well as actual decommissioned train cars. Getting to see and even sometimes walk through trains from throughout the history of Japanese rail is a blast that scratches two itches: a fondness for exploring cultural development and a love for large machines. Whether it was going inside the very first bullet train, seeing a train meant exclusively for the emperor, or learning about manually powered carts that utilized laid tracks, I got a lot out of simply being there. 

There was also a restaurant that served authentic train cafeteria foods from the olden days, but unfortunately, I already had lunch plans that prevented me from eating there. I did snag some microwaveable train curry to try at a later date, though (more on that in the future).

One highlight was seeing the kids who loved being there. Whereas some museums typically have adults dragging bored children there, this was not the case at all. These young train fans were captivated by everything they saw, and some even dressed up as conductors. It made me realize that the train otaku of Japan start young—a recurring theme that I saw throughout my trip.

Shinkalion Shorts

Speaking of kids stuff, I was delighted to find out that the Railway Museum has showings of two shorts from Shinkansen Henkei Robo Shinkalion: The Animation, the mecha anime about transforming bullet trains. Specifically, they’re Shinkalion: The Animation—360° The Movie and Shinkalion: The Animation—360° The Movie: The New Driver. Both cost a little extra—around 700 yen each—with each around five to eight minutes. The seating capacity was quite small (around 20 seats), but I did see some kids and parents watching as well. They also had showings throughout the day, so anyone curious could dip in at their own convenience.

Both shorts take place in the world of the anime, with the second taking place later in the story than the other and including the audience as the titular “new driver.” The main gimmick for these shorts is they’re shot in 3D and (as implied) in 360 degrees. When laser beams go flying, you can look over your shoulders to see it disappear in the distance. They’re fun little things that I’m glad to have experienced.

Coincidentally, the makers of the series actually announced a new anime on Christmas called Shinkalion: Change the World. The characters look a bit more mature than in previous series, and I wonder if they’re aiming for a slightly older audience.

That’s all for now. Look forward to Part 2!

Ganbalance de Desk Job: “Power of Hope: Precure Full Bloom”

With only a few exceptions, Precure has always been resistant to portraying its heroines when they’re older. If they’re middle schoolers, that’s all you’ll ever see them as; if they’re high schoolers, same deal. That’s why one of the 20th anniversary projects, which portrays some of them as adults, came as such a surprise. 

Power of Hope: Precure Full Bloom is a series that brings back the cast of 2007’s Yes! Pretty Cure 5 and 2006’s Futari wa Pretty Cure Splash Star in their 20s, clearly aimed at the original audience of young girls who have themselves grown up. Known as Kibou no Chikara: Adult Precure ’23 in Japan, the story centers on the eight former Precures as working adults. When mysterious shadow monsters start appearing all across town, they discover that they can age backwards to their old middle school selves and transform once again into combat-ready magical girls.

Thematically, one of the biggest things about Power of Hope is the way it portrays a messier and more complicated world than the actual main series of the franchise. In contrast to the generally rose-colored optimism of their youth, the girls are all running into challenges that can’t be solved by sunny dispositions alone. Even those who have basically achieved their childhood dreams see that joy crashing into reality. What’s worse, they are well aware of how little other adults care about their fellow human beings. Rather than concerning itself with girls who are trying to find themselves and what they want to do in life, the anime is more about confronting the cynicism of the “real world,” both locally in Japanese society and on a global scale. Among the topics brought up are overly conservative and sexist workplace bosses, climate change, fear that you peaked too early and that your life is all downhill now, unethical mining in Africa, rampant capitalism, and so on. 

It’s funny to me that this series would come out in the same season as Bullbuster, an anime also about working adults connected to a domain usually seen as kiddy (magical girls, mecha). Like Bullbuster, Power of Hope refuses to say that things will work out in the end—it just hopes we can reach that better outcome. 

The creators of the show clearly put a lot of thought and effort into aging up the girls. Where many series might just make them taller, change their hair a bit, and call it a day, Power of Hope really gives each of them a mature quality that is uniquely their own. In fact, I consider these adult designs to be some of the best I’ve ever seen. The only shame is that they decided not to give them grown-up versions of their magical girl forms. I suspect it was as much a time saver as anything else—it allows the anime to reuse stock footage from the original series they came from. Splash Star kind of gets shafted here just because it’s a digital-paint anime from before the transition to HD broadcasts in Japan, so it really shows its age. 

A number of characters make cameo appearances, and fans of those earliest Precure series are likely to get a kick out of their presence. Of particular interest are the hosts of the online video channel “Dark Night Light,” in which two familiar voices make for surprisingly hilarious comedians. My only real gripe about the guest characters is the fact that Masuko Mika—the old intrepid school journalist—is nowhere to be found.

While the mainline Precure titles touch on some serious topics, they also are not in the business of crushing children’s aspirations. The presence of adversity usually carries a message to not give up because things will look brighter on the other side. But now that those same kids are older, it wants to speak to them as adults. In Power of Hope, it’s more like “some people just suck, but you still gotta work for a better future for yourself and the world.”

Black Jack in the 22nd Century: Gene of AI

My initial impression of the anime Gene of AI was that it reminded me of Urasawa Naoki, manga author of Pluto, 20th Century Boys, and more. Urasawa has a distinct way of drawing characters, and Gene of AI author Yamada Kyuri seems to follow many of his stylistic quirks. But it’s not just the aesthetics that are reminiscent— the robust examinations of humanity and culture are also of a similar vein.

All this might sound like I’m accusing Yamada of being a pale imitation, but I’m not. Gene of AI stands on its own two legs as an interesting piece of science fiction that speculates about a world where artificially intelligent beings called humanoids live alongside humans. Humanoids have their own unique medical challenges, as well as moral and ethical quandaries. In the thick of it all is the main character, a fully human doctor of humanoids named Sudo Hikaru who also secretly performs extralegal treatments for those who can’t go through normal channels.

More than merely asking what it means to be human, Gene of AI examines the complexities that come from a world where equal human rights for sentient AI has long been the norm. The series presents a variety of intriguing problems, like how the artificial limits of humanoid capability and the unknown/volatile nature of human capability can create mutual envy, of how the distinction between humanoid and robot is blurry and imposed from the top down. In this way, Gene of AI bears some resemblance to Urasawa’s Pluto. However, while Pluto is a reimagining of a Tetsuwan Atom story by Tezuka Osamu, Yamada’s series is more like a futuristic Black Jack, all while maintaining its identity as a work of speculative fiction.

There’s more manga than what the anime covers, so I’m hoping we get the next part of the Gene of AI series. In an industry where science fiction is often just window dressing, this is one that challenges viewers to consider more about their world and the future that lies ahead.

Spectacle and Success: Spy x Family Code: White

My winter trip to Japan last year gave me the opportunity to see Spy x Family Code: White, the very first Spy x Family movie. As a fan who has kept up with both the manga and the anime, I was curious to see how they would approach a theatrical release. I sat down with my buttered-potato-topped hot dog and my sour-cream-and-onion popcorn, ready to find out.

Spy x Family is the story of Twilight, an unrivaled master of espionage whose latest mission is to create a false family so that he can get close to a former prime minister, all with the goal of preventing another war from breaking out. To this end, he marries an office worker named Yor and adopts a girl named Anya. Unbeknownst to him, Yor is really one of the deadliest assassins alive. And while neither husband nor wife know the truth about the other, Anya certainly does because she’s actually a psychic. Despite all the secrets, though, the three manage to form a family that on the surface is the envy of all, yet also increasingly seems to be motivated by genuine love and affection.

The recent trend with some Jump series (such as Demon Slayer and Jujutsu Kaisen) has been to adapt an arc or major plot point into a feature-length work, and I wondered if Spy x Family would do the same. However, it turns out that the makers went with a different tack. Rather than going for something canonical, they created an original story. It’s the common choice for mega franchises, e.g. One Piece, Precure, Doraemon, Detective Conan.

In fact, Code: White is pretty much a Detective Conan movie with way less mystery solving and way more action. The story is all right, but spectacle is the name of the game: gorgeously animated chase scenes and fights, a story that takes the trio to ridiculous(ly cool) places, wild stunts, and plenty of explosions. The actual plot developments stretch the limits of what would plausibly keep Twilight and Yor from suspecting each other and wouldn’t be feasible if the movie wasn’t standalone. But given what it is, the makers are allowed to go ham, and they have enough for ten Christmas dinners. It’s a short but sweet popcorn flick.

I think the fact that Spy x Family Code: White is a non-canon entry says a lot about how the franchise is regarded in Japan. Basically, it’s a pop culture hit, almost on par with the heavy hitters. That much was clear even when discounting all the merch available in chains and other big stores to promote the movie. At one point, I stopped in a stationery store that barely sold five manga, and one of those titles just happened to be Spy x Family

It doesn’t look like the hype will be dying down anytime soon.

Patlabor, Dai-Guard, and Now Bullbuster

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

Was there something else?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Frieren, Ikari Shinji, and Lost Love

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

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

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

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

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

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