Threading the Needle(mouse): Sonic the Hedgehog 3

Sonic the Hedgehog has become a hit movie franchise, and that fact is still kind of mind-boggling. Even putting aside the widely-panned promotional images from the first movie that resulted in the CG being completely redone, there were many years where Sonic was the butt of endless jokes. Now, the third movie features Shadow the Hedgehog, the ultra edgy character who has been mocked by the internet since his debut…and he’s great. The movie’s great. 

My inner child, the one that used to imagine himself as Sonic, is thrilled. The more critical adult that I am now is satisfied as well. Sonic the Hedgehog 3 has broad appeal while being faithful to the spirit of the source material and telling a good story, and that’s a balance many studios are failing miserably to achieve right now.

The story of Sonic the Hedgehog 3 is basically an adaptation of Sonic Adventure 2 on the Dreamcast, but pared down to 90-ish minutes in a way that keeps the essence of the story and the narrative benchmarks. For example, the film pulls out the iconic theme, “Live and Learn,” at just the right moment. This is indicative of something the Sonic movies have been able to pull off that I think has helped their success: They know what to prioritize in the source material. When the Sonic games themselves have accrued a ton of bloat over time, and making films for Hollywood often means trying to cater to mainstream assumptions and expectations, this is a powerful skill.

Characters retain their core traits even when certain aspects of their personalities might differ from game portrayals, such that they can be given more broadly relatable/entertaining traits and quirks without being unrecognizable, like Sonic’s occasional vulnerable awkwardness is charming juxtaposed with his general smart-aleck nature. Knuckles lack of self-awareness balances out his portrayal as a stoic warrior. Jim Carrey as Robotnik is a scenery-chewing goof more reminiscent of The Adventures of Sonic the Hedgehog than anything else, but it works because the movie captures his frustrated antagonism towards his nemesis. 

With Shadow too, the creators understood that you have to play his brooding nature pretty straight because he needs to come across as powerful but burdened by trauma. Keanu Reeves also performs Shadow almost perfectly, especially in the way he differentiates his voice from a similar character in John Wick. 

As I was watching the movie, I wondered where they might go next with any sequels. Sonic Adventure 2 is probably the last time any character has really cemented themselves in pop culture, and a lot of the games after that are filled with odd experimental gimmicks or rely on nostalgia. When the post-credits teasers hit, they took me by complete surprise. Now I really want to see Sonic 4.

Pokémon: Mewtwo Strikes Back EVOLUTION…in Japanese?!

While browsing Netflix one day, I came upon the movie Mewtwo Strikes Back EVOLUTION: a remake of the first Pokémon movie originally from the late 90s. Out of curiosity, I decided to look at the language settings to see what was available, and was surprised to see Japanese audio among the options.

This is a fairly big deal because the US release of the first movie never came with Japanese as an option, and it was from a time when dubs would substantially alter the contents of the original. While both the Japanese and English versions of Mewtwo Strikes Back are clearly meant primarily for kids, the differences are enough to practically make them two different movies. 

I watched EVOLUTION with Japanese audio and English closed captioning (an actual subtitle track was unavailable), and to my surprise, it actually translates a majority of the script faithfully. Gone are the attempts to “explain” mysterious moments from the film—there’s no legend of “healing tears,” for example. And rather than the antagonist Mewtwo being a grievance-filled villain out to start his “reign” over the world, they’re back to being the traumatized soul who “strikes back” at the world because of a deep existential crisis. I am serious when I say that Mewtwo is literally the best character in the entire anime because of the complexity of their character, and I’m happy that people get to see that now. For those watching in Japanese, Ichimura Masachika reprises his role as Mewtwo, and his performance remains unbelievably good. Ichimura’s background is actually in theater acting (he was the very first Japanese Phantom of the Opera), and his veteran skill shows.

I said the script was mostly faithful, though, and that’s because a few things do not match up. 

The opening and ending songs are still the ones used in the dub version even when you watch in Japanese, so I sadly did not get to hear the new rendition of one of my favorite songs, “Kaze to Issho ni.” At the very least, the new ending song is better than what used to be there in the dub.

The biggest departure comes from the fact that the English script retains the dub’s version of Mewtwo’s speech at the end: “I see now that the circumstances of one’s birth are irrelevant. It is what you do with the gift of life that determines who you are.” It’s not a bad sentiment, but it is significantly different from the Japanese, where Mewtwo is much more ambivalent to the very end. In Japanese, they talk about how the clones are alive, and they will continue to live—somewhere.” The difference in sentiment feels like it comes down to America’s valuing of being a master of your fate vs. Japan’s love of the ephemeral and imperfect (to overly simplify things), but I wish at least this version could have stuck closer to the original. Given how the rest of the script is so close, I suspect that those in charge felt that the dub line is inextricably tied to perceptions of the movie in English.

Aside from the translation comparison, the rest of the film just feels like an experiment they decided to throw out there. The CG is all right but unspectacular, and a number of action scenes feel longer than they did before (sometimes to the detriment of the pacing). Overall, the original holds up a bit better in Japanese, but having a version that’s 80% more accurate in English is something I’m just glad to see.

I Wish It Was 52 Episodes: The Stories of Girls Who Couldn’t Be Magicians

The Stories of Girls Who Couldn’t Be Magicians is an anime that should have been longer. 

Adapted from a web novel, the story of Mahonare (as it’s known for short in Japanese) follows  Kurumi Mirai, a girl who has always dreamed of being a magician, but failed to get into the magic program of the prestigious Rettoran Academy. Attending the school’s non-magical track, a crestfallen Kurumi and the rest of her class soon meet their homeroom teacher, the unusually petite and eccentric Minami Suzuki, who promises that she will teach them magic, despite common sense saying that it should be impossible.

There is one series above all others that Mahonare reminds me of: the wonderful Ojamajo Doremi. While the magic aspect is something they clearly have in common, the similarities also include the style of presentation. From the pastel-like filters to the opening narration each episode to the theme songs themselves, Mahonare greatly resembles the morning girls’ anime of the late 90s and early 2000s that include Doremi but also things like Ashita no Nadja and Fushigiboshi no Futagohime.

But the more important way that the Mahonare draws upon the tradition of Doremi is the way it builds up a strong cast of characters, both major and minor, that contributes to world building and story. Though we get only a few glimpses of some characters, each gives the impression that they’d have their own interesting stories to tell if given the chance. One girl in Kurumi’s class is supposed to be part of the magic elite, only to have come short. Others are more happy to just be attending even if they can’t cast spells, eager to pursue their passions whether it’s cooking, music, or fashion. 

Moreover, while the teens have teen troubles, the adults have adult troubles, and the intersection between them creates conflicts about everything from pursuing your dreams to moral quandaries that cut to the heart of their society. One of the most interesting plot points involves the positives and negatives of the magic notebooks that have become ubiquitous. Their widespread adoption encourages magic to be converted to easy-to-use apps that don’t require necessarily understanding fundamentals, mirroring concerns over the way smartphones and tablets have transformed how children grow up with electronics.

But that resemblance to Doremi is exactly why I think Mahonare should’ve had more episodes. It feels like a 52-episode work that was condensed down to 12, and the show suffers for it. Little crumbs of plot development that could have been sprinkled in here and there instead come one after the other. Character bonding moments happen very rapidly as well, as opposed to building up gradually and therefore with more weight. While I understand that the reality of current anime production means very few anime get that privilege, I can still lament the loss of that possibility for Mahonare nevertheless.

This certainly isn’t the first time that a series has received a truncated adaptation, and some even go on to have a more thorough version be made later. I can only hope that The Stories of Girls Who Couldn’t Become Magicians falls into this select category.

King Arthur and the Knights of Justice Has a Comic

I was recently surprised to discover a King Arthur and the Knights of Justice comic, based on the 1990s cartoon.

As a kid, I thought that show was the coolest. It follows a football team (led by quarterback Arthur King) who have been transported to ancient Camelot to fight in place of the Knights of the Round Table against the evil witch Morgana and her general, Lord Viper. In practice, it was a toy-centric children’s show featuring buff dudes in armor riding buff horses in armor, firing missiles from medieval weapons and sometimes summoning a dragon. Totally radical.

Like so many animations of that era, it’s more impressive in my childhood memories and has no actual conclusion. Eventually, it faded from pop culture consciousness. Seeing it pop up again in a new format, I had to at least give the thing a chance.

Currently at a single volume, the comic version keeps the same basic premise but changes a few things up. The plot is a little more nuanced and does a lot to foreground the characters’ interpersonal dynamics. It’s also a lot more gay now, and I don’t mean that in a derogatory fashion. Two of the male teammates-turned-knights are literally a couple, and their relationship is both displayed prominently and becomes a major factor in the plot. There’s even a note at the end of the book promoting it as LGBTQA+ fiction. 

While I could see some people criticize this adaptation for “changing the characters,” it’s not as if King Arthur and the Knights of Justice was ever some work with strong, three-dimensional personalities or significant cultural traction in the first place. Related to this, the characters are drawn fairly differently, going from the barrel-chested children’s cartoon heroes common in the 80s and 90s, to appearing a bit more svelte and often kind of sultry.

I find the new designs fascinating, because it’s like the comic designs are a confluence of various influences and forces originally found in shounen manga. First, there’s the handsome sports dudes component in the vein of Prince of Tennis or Yowamushi Pedal, but through the additional lens of comics such as Check, Please! Second, whether intentional or otherwise, King Arthur and the Knights of Justice has always been a kind of American version of Saint Seiya, a series that is foundational for the fujoshi community. In a way, making a Saint Seiya descendant that was as chaste/bland as King Arthur in the character department into something closer to Saint Seiya (in a way that appeals more to a chunk of the latter’s fanbase) feels like things have gone full circle.

The comic is trying to draw from a past resource and do its own thing, and I appreciate that. Although it runs the risk of alienating people who just want something totally faithful to the original, I think that aiming it at a newer generation is A-OK.

A Lasting Legacy: Love Live! Superstar!! 3rd Season

11 anime schoolgirls in gray uniforms holding letters in their hands that spell "Liella!"

Love Live! Superstar!! is one of my favorite entries in the Love Live! franchise, but even I was unsure if the third season was necessary. The previous season ended on a high note, and the girls of Liella! could have ridden off into the sunset for a satisfying conclusion. But despite some misgivings, I decided to stick with it. Fortunately, my faith was rewarded once again, and by the end, I found that this season solidified my ongoing belief that Superstar!! is the absolute best of Love Live! from a storytelling perspective.

Love Live! Superstar!! 3rd Season begins with protagonist Shibuya Kanon and the rest of Liella! coming off the high of finally winning the Love Live! national school idol competition. They start the new school year determined to be first back-to-back champions, but a few hurdles stand in their way. First is the pressure of being the reigning team. Second is the presence of one Wien Margarete, a transfer student from Austria who competed against Liella last time and decides to form her own school idol club at their school instead. Third is the fact that Kanon decides to pull a surprise heel turn (of sorts) and join Margarete’s side along with another girl, Onitsuka Tomari. Now, instead of everyone working as one, the two sides must compete to see who will represent their school.

The idea of rival clubs is an intriguing one, but Love Live! is not really a franchise that can make it particularly intense. Or rather, the last time they tried with the (now-defunct) Love Live! All Stars mobile game, it backfired among the fanbase, and the anime adaptation had to tone things down. And so events proceed fairly predictably, with the two sides eventually coming together and any animosity being just caring and affection in disguise. In that sense, Season 3 is a bit of a disappointment, but I eventually realized that this was the wrong angle to look at the whole thing.

The Love Live! competition itself isn’t actually the main focus in 3rd Season. Even the desire for a repeat victory and the challenge of getting there is merely a backdrop than the driving force. Instead, the real story is about how everyone deals with the inevitability of change that comes with the fact that Kanon and the other founding members will be graduating from high school. All the third-years are thinking about what their adult lives will look like and what careers they want to pursue. The second-years will be the ones to inherit the club, and they must go from being the newcomers to becoming the core. And the first-years, Margarete and Tomari, see their participation in more cynical terms. They’re all at different stages.

Superstar!! is also the first time we’ve followed a core cast from the start of high school all the way to the end. In the first season, Kanon’s main struggle is overcoming her trauma that prevents her from singing. In the second, it’s figuring out how to help others overcome their own fears and doubts. And in the third, it’s about leaving behind a system and legacy that will encourage even more in the future to have courage and chase their passion. This might seem par for the course compared to previous generations of Love Live!, but there is a significant difference. 

In every other case, the story begins with a collection of first-, second-, and third-years all coming together. While characters develop in their own ways, they’re also limited to a degree by this format in one way or another. Often, the specific roster is portrayed as lightning in a bottle—something that cannot (and maybe even should not) be replicated. In contrast, all three seasons of Superstar!! collectively work to show that even as Kanon and her classmates leave, the club will continue to grow and change. Each iteration of Liella! has been important in its own way, and the anime implies that this won’t stop even after the original five are no longer there. This flow of time is what sets this series apart, and ultimately makes this third season satisfying to watch.

So that’s Love Live! Superstar!!…or at least until the series gets a feature-film send-off. While I have great fondness for all generations of Love Live!, I really do think that this one is special because of how strong it is as an overall piece of narrative fiction. Superstar!! relies the least on expecting from its audience an inherent receptiveness to idols (and by extension the “school idol” concept), and I think this versatility helps make it a very rewarding series overall.

Birds of a Feather Conspire Together, but Also Separately: “Yatagarasu: The Raven Does Not Choose Its Master”

Yatagarasu: The Raven Does Not Choose Its Master stands out as an anime that deftly combines different genres together to make a smart, compelling adaptation of the novel series.

Yamauchi, the world of Yatagarasu, resembles Heian-era Japan, but all the people have the ability to turn into large three-legged ravens—because they actually are ravens. Yukiya, the son of a leader from the North (one of four areas alongside the West, East, and South), gets into trouble that winds up with him working for the Imperial Prince. But despite its pristine outer image, the imperial court is center stage for the different factions to jockey for power, and clandestine actions are not uncommon.

The series is a mix of fantasy, court intrigue, character drama, and detective fiction, where the Prince is the primary investigator and Yukiya is his somewhat reluctant assistant. With all these different elements at play, it would be very easy to have the work fall apart, but Yatagarasu successfully weaves it all together. The world-building is continuously intriguing, the mysteries are elaborate and well-structured, and the twists and revelations are genuinely surprising while still connecting logically. Even the seemingly arbitrary decisions about the setting play into the greater story. The greater cast is great as well, whether it’s potential brides for the Prince showing that they’re more than passive damsels or enemies with unseen sides.

The anime gets through its initial major story and ends in the middle of the next one, so it doesn’t wrap up neatly. Nevertheless, I think it’s a great series that can draw viewers deep into its world if they can handle the court complexities. 

“Riki-Oh: The Story of Ricky” Is More Politically Relevant than Ever

A shirtless muscular man stands amidst rubble while the prisoners behind him cheer.

I’ve known about Riki-Oh (aka The Story of Ricky) and its supremely over-the-top violence for decades. Whether it was seeing grotesque(ly awesome) moments from the original manga by Takajou Masahiko and Saruwatari Tetsuya, or animated gifs of the most ridiculous scenes from the 1991 Hong Kong movie directed by Lam Nai-Choi, those images stay with a person. When I finally got around to watching that film adaptation, I thought I was ready for what I was about to see. What no one ever told me was just how much Riki-Oh speaks to a nascent prison-industrial complex that has only grown horrifically stronger by 2024.

The opening narration text establishes that Riki-Oh takes place in the future year of 2001, where something horrifying has happened: All government organizations has been privatized, including prisons.

Seeing this made my eyes widen in surprise. When for-profit private prisons plague the United States and treat its inmates in the cruelest ways possible, when Hong Kong itself is having its rights taken away, and when there is actual talk about privatizing state and federal penitentiaries in the US, this movie feels practically prescient. I don’t know how much of this is from the original manga and how much is a quality of the movie, but it’s a hell of an establishing message to put at the beginning.

A bloodied, muscular man stops his fist inches from a man in a deputy warden uniform.

Then, our hero, Lik-Wong (literally Riki-Oh in Chinese) shows up among the newest batch of convicts. He’s impossibly cool and strong, living with five bullets lodged in his chest and possessing the power to punch people so hard, their body parts explode. To say he’s cut from the same cloth as Kenshiro from Fist of the North Star would be an understatement. But one thing is immediately clear about him: While he is capable of astounding acts of lethality, he would rather there be respect for human dignity, and so tries to show restraint. However, should someone trample on that humanity, Lik-Wong’s willing to give them some consequences for their actions. He believes strongly in peace, but will not preserve a false one in the absence of justice. 

And so Lik-Wong gets into many battles and punches holes in his foes and cleaves their limbs off with the power of his qi gong. He is a manga hero brought to life. But the really interesting portrayals come from the other prisoners, both individually and as a whole. Some are brutal and unrepentant criminals who have gotten in with the equally malicious guards for their own selfish benefit. Others are good people only in there due to a corrupt justice system. Those who are victimized by the prison and its warden, including being used as slave labor for illegal drug production, rally behind Lik-Wong and even gain inspiration to fight back thanks to him. 

An elderly prisoner with his face heavily bandaged is on the floor. He pleads, "Sir, I want to go home to see my wife and kids."

But Lik-Wong, for his part, understands that you can’t hold him up as the standard of what a normal person can do. When his fellow inmates resist orders to bury him alive, our hero tells them to do it anyway. They need to avoid incurring the wrath of the warden and stay alive to resist tomorrow. By the end, the prisoners stage a mass revolt while Lik-Wong fights the superhuman monsters that make up the prison’s strongest fighters. Lik-Wong is singularly exceptional, but even he can’t do it alone.

A muscular man and a large group of prisoners have cornered the Deputy Warden. The subtitles say, "Asshole, you killed Fat! You're a murderer!"

So we’re left with a movie featuring the most off-the-wall feats of dismemberment and disembowelment as performed by a very colorful cast of characters, and underneath it all are some profound questions. Why do we permit the utter dehumanization of prisoners while allowing prisons to profit off their enslavement? Why do we allow people with such an opportunity for corruption to wield such power over people? Sadly, we have no Riki-Ohs or Lik-Wongs in the real world, but we do have the ability to rally around those who believe in compassionate justice that protects the vulnerable, and to work together to make a difference.

Chainsaw Man as Self-Reflective Edgelord Media

Video essayist F.D Signifier has made various videos about what he calls edgelord movies—media featuring cool lone-wolf heroes—and the way they interact with the portion of their fanbase that consist of a male, mostly white viewers drawn to their depiction of masculinity. Fight Club, The Matrix, Joker, and even something like Attack on Titan all count towards this. They’re fascinating watches, and well worth checking out.

At the end of his most recent video (see above), he comes to a striking conclusion: Attempts to address edgelords through edgelord media are probably in vain because there will always be a part of that audience who will just remember the badass stuff and ignore (or not even notice) the criticism. To make an edgelord movie, you need edgelord moments, and that is what a particular type will gravitate towards. If you make violence look cool, that’s what some people will remember above all else.

I can definitely see where F.D Signifier is coming from. But despite my sense that he might very well be right, I’m going to toss in my suggestion for an edgelord title that I think is the most likely to reach that audience and drive its criticisms home: Chainsaw Man.

Fujimoto Tatsuki’s manga Chainsaw Man centers around Denji, a destitute boy who does menial tasks for gangsters and dreams of 1) losing his virginity 2) eating bread with jam. Through an odd confluence of events, he gains the power of the Chainsaw Devil and becomes Chainsaw Man, with a chainsaw for a head and chainsaws on his arms…and also he can just make chainsaws come out of his body. The series is crass and ultra violent, and Denji acts as this powerful hero who breaks all the rules.

Except, where other edgelord fiction might leave any revealing commentary about its protagonist to the end (Fight Club, Attack on Titan), or couch its transgressive politics in imagery and metaphor (The Matrix), Chainsaw Man constantly juxtaposes the “sigma male” qualities of Denji with his own pathetic nature. Rarely does a badass scene or arc take place that isn’t immediately cut at the knees while the series questions that badassery in the first place. While it’s still possible to ignore Denji’s sadder qualities, Chainsaw Man really throws it in the audience’s face over and over again. There are even times where Denji himself explicitly expresses frustration over how shallow he can be, and how he often wishes he wasn’t that way.

I don’t have any empirical evidence that Chainsaw Man has reached anyone in the manner I’ve described. In fact, I often see the opposite, as parts of the Chainsaw Man fandom concentrate on refracted pieces instead of the whole: the brutal violence, the character Makima’s domme aesthetic, general wackiness, etc. But while at least a chunk of that audience might never learn, the series itself continuously pulls apart its own power fantasy only to put it back together and then tear it up again in a continuous cycle. It never relents, and I think that persistence could pay off.

Rawhide Kobayashi’s Favorite Anime: Delusional Monthly Magazine

Delusional Monthly Magazine feels like a show that, by all rights, shouldn’t exist.

When I was first getting into anime, one of the selling points was simply the way it contrasted with American cartoons. Instead of cartoony mascot characters, it had cool-looking humans and fantasy races. Instead of silly stories that resolved more or less in one episode, anime featured ongoing epic storylines. And instead of incompetent antagonists, you could see villains who took lives and struck terror in their victims. While this is not an accurate description of anime as a whole, it was definitely a common sentiment at the time.

But Delusional Monthly Magazine is like an anime homage to 80s–90s American cartoons, the kind of thing you’d see on a weekday afternoon or Saturday morning. If you put it next to He-Man, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, some version of Scooby-Doo, Bionic Six, Mummies Alive, Road Rovers, or any number of shows that typically get reviewed by Secret Galaxy, it would hardly look out of place. And I don’t even mean that the show is reminiscent of these series at their best, like when they have magnificently animated openings. Rather, Delusional Monthly Magazine often calls to mind the sillier episodes where the budget wasn’t so hot.

Warning: Spoilers for the entire series.

In the world of the show, the eponymous Delusional Monthly Magazine is a periodical dedicated to exploring the occult, and its entire staff consists of a bunch of weirdos. Their newest recruit is Goro, a researcher who’s obsessed with the long lost continent of Mo (not Mu), and who sets them on a path to discovering relics that may be clues to finding the Mo Continent. They have to compete with the mysterious White Pegasus corporation, who’s also looking for Mo relics called MOParts (a play on OOPArts), but when one relic comes into contact with Taro, the girl-starved perpetual slacker on the team, he transforms into a massive tiger man straight out of Thundercats. Not long after, allies and enemies alike discover the ability to turn into these “Motarian” beastmen, and they clash in varied and often ridiculous ways. 

When I say ridiculous, what I mean is that the plots are straight-up Shredder-and-Krang affairs. They even have two Motarian beast goons not unlike Bebop and Rocksteady, albeit with more effeminate features. The bad guys set up a fake cruise ship dating service to steal the MOParts. The good guys try to deal with an actor possessed by a relic that makes him ruin every performance he’s in, and Taro in tiger form does a doubles’ figure skating routine. One of the characters, a 10-year-old with healing powers, turns out to have been a bull-form Motarian prince. A sudden dog show that’s more of a dog triathlon includes a dance section, where the crew’s weirdly anthropomorphic shaggy dog (and not in the furry sense like with Taro) busts a move. Also, the dog is actually a reincarnated Motarian human bard, and there are some mild BL elements too. 

Given all the above, it’s as if Delusional Monthly Magazine is a Japanese animation that embodies all the qualities that anime was supposed to stand in contrast to. Is that good? Is that bad? It almost doesn’t matter because the mere fact that we have a show like this to watch is like a miracle in and of itself. I constantly found myself questioning how any of this could be real.

Even the climax of the series itself feels like the way a long-running and episodic TV cartoon or a 90s anime that got popular in the West would do a season finale. The mostly frivolous stories make way for a very sudden and dramatic double-triple twist. First, we discover the quiet boss lady who owns the magazine was once a scientific prodigy who was ostracized for declaring that the Mo continent was real, and that she is actually a reincarnated Motarian. Second, she was very close friends with the leader of White Pegasus, who was also a scientist. Third, she’s actually the villain of the series, and wants to revive the Mo continent to use its doomsday weapon to wipe out humanity. The heroes win the day, and the show gets to provide some basic closure that works both as an ending (should it not be renewed,) and leaves open the possibility of continuing. 

Delusional Monthly Magazine has a very intentional retro feel, to the extent that the show itself makes a joke about how its episode titles are reminiscent of the dramatic and sometimes spoilerific episodes titles of older anime. But it’s one thing to call back to a previous era, and another to structure your entire show in a way that not only leaps back in time but reaches across the ocean to capture the attitude of a certain era of American animation. In anime fandom, we throw words like “weeaboo” around to describe people obsessed with Japanese culture, and this feels like the other side of the coin.

The creator of Delusional Monthly Magazine, Umatani Ichigo, is credited with just one other work: a property called Remote ☆ Host, which seems to be about rival host clubs that broadcast remotely? I’m not entirely sure and would be interested in knowing more about it. The reason I looked this up is because I was hoping to get some insight into whatever mind brought this to fruition. I couldn’t find any answers, and I don’t know how much the director and writer played a part in making such a bizarre work. Whatever the reason, we have an anime that defies expectations.

Let the King Show You How It’s Done! Kinnikuman: Perfect Origin Arc

A part of me can’t believe that I got to watch an all-new Kinnikuman anime in 2024. 

While I didn’t really get into the series until the late 2000s, I became engrossed in the eclectic mix of ultra violence, slapstick silliness, surprisingly compelling characters, and sheer unpredictability, all couched in the aesthetics of pro wrestling and heroics. When the original manga started up again in the 2010s after concluding pretty definitively three decades ago, I entertained the thought of reading the new volumes, but I put the idea off with the intent to get around to it eventually. Having an anime adaptation come out worked out in my favor. 

So here we have Kinnikuman: Perfect Origin Arc, which takes place shortly after the end of the original series, where Kinnikuman defeated his rivals for the throne of Planet Kinniku. In this new universe, members of one of the three main factions, the Perfect Choujin have emerged to stop a peace treaty on Earth between their side and the Justice Choujin and Devil Choujin. More powerful than the previous Perfect Choujin that Kinnikuman and his allies had previously faced, they’re eager to prove their superiority in the ring. With most of the strongest Justice Choujin severely injured from previous bouts and Kinnikuman himself attending to his kingly duties, the Perfect Choujin have a seemingly overwhelming edge.

Kinnikuman is actually a very influential Shounen Jump series, to the extent that many of the things it popularized are now part of the fabric of battle manga. It predates Fist of the North Star, JoJo, and Dragon Ball, while being the series to put tournament arcs on the map. It features a silly hero with a heart of gold who continually turns fierce enemies into loyal allies. It literally has characters talking about Friendship Power as an actual source of strength, and it’s such a big deal that the Perfect Origin Arc opening theme (by the band FLOW) has lyrics that go “Friendship Power! Super Muscle!” But as much as its influential tropes are taken for granted nowadays, that doesn’t necessarily mean Kinnikuman is eclipsed by its many descendants. It actually doesn’t matter how many shounen works you’ve experienced over the years; nothing actually prepares you for the Calvinball-esque nature of Kinnikuman.

For example, something that is incredibly hard to tell is whether a character is meant to be a serious winner or a comic relief jobber, not least of which is because sometimes you have comic relief winners and serious jobbers. Is that muscular dalmatian man a bigger threat than that giant baby? Who can know? Regardless of wins and losses, it can be rather surprising who the most compelling characters are. 

The battle logic is equally ridiculous and unpredictable. If you’re accustomed to the outwitting/out powering one-upmanship of other Jump titles, Kinnikuman has a more raw version that will twist itself into any and every shape. Logic is a game of improv, and it manifests in supremely goofy yet dramatically engaging storytelling.

Getting into Kinnikuman this late isn’t really an issue like jumping into a much later arc of One Piece might be. However, that’s simply because starting from the beginning wouldn’t make much of a difference. In fact, it might be even worse because the emphasis on pro wrestling wasn’t even there from the start. Instead, viewers can suicide dive right into a world where the 80s never really left, where one wrestler is a giant cassette player, and Spinning Toeholds are the most awesome thing ever. And if you want to see the actual Muscle Buster, watching the Perfect Origin Arc is the easiest way to do so.