Wonderful Precure! is the 21st anime series to carry the Precure name, and it continues a trend of breaking unspoken rules of the now decades-old magical girl franchise. But whereas the previous series broke age and gender barriers, Wonderful Precure! defies one of the most core aspects of its predecessors: how it approaches violence.
The story of Wonderful Precure! centers around Komugi, a Papillon Dog and resident of Animal Town who wishes she could communicate with her owner, Inukai Iroha. When the town’s mystical Mirror Stone grants Komugi the ability to speak human language and even transform into a person, her friendship with Iroha grows closer than ever. She also gains the ability to transform into the magical girl Cure Wonderful and face off against monsters called Garugaru—once-peaceful animals who have been twisted and corrupted into dark creatures. Later, she’s joined by Iroha (as Cure Friendy), as well as Cure Nyammy and Cure Lilian.
Komugi is not the first combination of magical girl and mascot in Precure, with characters like Milky Rose and Cure Parfait coming before her. However, she’s the first to be the main heroine. This in itself is a notably different angle taken by Wonderful Precure!, but even bigger is the fact that Wonderful Precure! is the first Precure to all but eschew combat as a fundamental part of the Precure experience.
When Futari no Pretty Cure hit Japanese airwaves back in 2004 and kicked off the Precure franchise, something caught the eyes of viewers about the way its heroines fought. Action-focused magical girls had been a thing since Cutie Honey in the 1970s, and Sailor Moon was home to heroines who could shoot lightning and cause earthquakes, but Cure Black and Cure White threw hands. They’d punch, kick, back fist, throw, and when the time came, shoot a massive energy beam to finish monsters off. (The original director also famously worked on Dragon Ball Z). Though never portrayed in a bloody manner, violence became a key element of Precure. Later entries would follow this to varying degrees, some preferring to concentrate more on elemental blasts and mystical energies, while others continuing the fisticuffs with gusto.
In contrast, outside of a few episodes where it’s a point of character conflict, the heroines of Wonderful Precure! don’t ever try to hurt the Garugaru. Rather, they try to corner them like, well, animals so that they can heal and restore the poor transformed critters. The approach is understandable: The creators probably wanted to discourage kids from punching animals. I also can’t tell if removing violence from Precure is a brave move or a conservative one, but it does make for a much less action-packed anime as a result, for better or worse.
Precure has always primarily targeted young girls (with things for older fans to appreciate), but Wonderful Precure! has a more childish feel than all previous titles. That said, this series isn’t entirely toothless. The animal theme emphasizes cuddles and fun, but the series also brings up the harm humans have inflicted on animals and the environment. The reality of people being responsible for the extinction of entire species becomes a vital part of the narrative, especially towards the end. It’s just that Wonderful Precure! approaches its pacing more like episodic anime from decades past, saving all the heavy stuff for the final stretch. It also has what I think is the best execution of an actual heterosexual romance Precure has ever seen, as well as possibly the best main villain ever.
One other thing that I believe is particularly cool about the series is that it tries hard to counter gender stereotypes. Iroha’s dad (who as far as we know is straight) is a mountain of muscle who dresses in frilly pink and shows tender kindness to all the animals he takes care of. Iroha’s longtime friend, a boy named Toyama Satoru, is a gentle soul who uses his dedicated study of animals to support the girls. And funnily enough, Satoru has a pet rabbit named Daifuku, who you might expect to be an adorable cinnamon roll. But when Komugi translates Daifuki’s speech, it turns out the fluff ball has the most badass manly speech mannerisms in the entire series. Trust me that the last aspect pays off.
While Wonderful Precure prefers it heroines to not kick ass and take names, that isn’t the case with the next series, You and Idol Precure! This may very well be the first and last time Precure decides to take a more peaceful approach, but it makes for a series that stands out all the more as a result. Wonderful Precure! can be profound in its own ways if you give it the chance to tell its story.
hololive 6th fes—the latest edition of the largest VTuber live concert in the world—happened earlier this month, from March 8th to the 9th. Watching it online, I came away feeling that this event was potentially a pivotal moment for hololive and its talents.
As an agency, hololive has come a very long way. What began as the off-shoot of a small tech start-up of around 10 employees named Cover corp has become a massive corporation of over 500, as well as the first name in VTubing. In other words, a lot has happened, and the performances seemed to reflect the various contrasts that come with this change: the simplicity and instability of the past versus the complexity and stability of the present, the advantages and disadvantages of playing it safe versus taking risks, and looking back to remember the good times but also to show how far they’ve come.
Performances with Extra Meaning
Related to this sense of history and where it might lead, the biggest story going into 6th fes happened only a few days earlier: Murasaki Shion of hololive Japan’s 2nd generation announced she would be graduating at the end of April, meaning this would be her last fes, and thus one last chance for the fans who gathered there live to show her their appreciation.
Thus, Shion’s performance became a major focal point for the whole event, where she performed her latest single: “Gomen ne Medicine.” The song’s lyrics talk about trying to create a medicine to heal, that she’s sorry if it ends up doing more harm in the process, and how she’s not able to properly convey her gratitude—a message that hits differently in hindsight. Moreover, she received one of the coveted spots in the concert venue’s new center stage contraption, putting her even more in the spotlight. The result was a highly emotional performance that was both a celebration of Shion’s 6.5 years at hololive and an acknowledgment that this was the beginning of the end.
Kazama Iroha’s participation was also a big deal. Afflicted with a psychological condition that prevented her from speaking, she managed to find her voice again sooner than her doctor had anticipated, and she’s been gradually streaming again. However, Iroha’s speech has become a bit halting and noticeably different from the boisterous and rapid-fire style she once had, so the question was how this might affect both her singing and potentially her MCing. But she managed to perform her original song “Mahou Shoujo Magical GOZARU” with little trouble, and while there was a few moments of hesitation in her talking, these were only minor hiccups
Iroha recently mentioned that her appearance at 6th fes almost didn’t happen. Now, she’s taking another hiatus in the hopes of fixing her speech and preventing her current way of speaking from becoming the standard.
The Center Stage
I need to talk about that center stage pod Shion (and others) used before proceeding further.
hololive fes has gotten increasingly huge over the years, and now the Makuhari Messe convention space appears to be at capacity for how many people can attend the concerts. There also weren’t differently priced tickets, so having a stage on just one end would be unfair to the people sitting all the way in the back. Last year, the solution they came up with was to have three different stages in different spots, so the “front” of the audience changed, depending on the performance.
This year, they went with two stages and a pod in the middle of the space. The two stages were similar to 5th fes’s, but the pod was so unusual that at first, I wasn’t sure what I was looking at. Essentially, it was a three-sided structure that rotated continuously, with a single performer displayed on the screens and additional walls blocking certain angles. I think the idea was that it gave a chance for everyone in the 360 degree space to get a decent view, but because the stream view could only ever see one screen, I couldn’t tell if the other two were showing the performer at different angles (for a kind of pseudo-3D hologram view), but I’ve seen others online say that was the case.
On the one hand, I was a little disappointed that this wasn’t a true 360-degree hologram like I thought it might be when hololive first shared the venue diagram. On the other hand, I appreciate that they tried to improve on 5th fes, even if their answer was a little ridiculous.
The ones who appeared on center stage in addition to Shion were Houshou Marine, Hoshimachi Suisei, Nekomata Okayu, Takane Lui, Sakura Miko, Tokino Sora, Ayunda Risu, Natsuiro Matsuri, and Moona Hoshinova (note that I may have missed some). There is no singular thing they all have in common, but many are pillars of the company, known for their excellent vocals, and/or have recent (or upcoming) solo concerts/album releases.
6th fes Debuts
This year, two generations made their first hololive fes appearances: English’s Advent and DEV_IS’s ReGLOSS. The two are kind of like sister groups, even covering each other’s music. And while neither group has a long history with hololive (around a year and a half for both), their group song choices already seem to reflect slightly different approaches.
Advent went with their debut number, “Rebellion.” However, compared to their initial recording and even their multiple previous performances for their 3D showcase and the live concert Breaking Dimensions, Advent has improved noticeably. Nerissa Ravencroft and (actual) twin sisters FuwaMoco were already strong singers, but Nerissa’s voice seemed more stable and FuwaMoco’s harmonies sound wonderful as ever. Shiori Novella continued to benefit from switching to a lower register where she has more control (as opposed to the higher notes of the original recording), and Koseki Bijou had more strength in her vocals. It’s the best “Rebellion” has ever sounded.
ReGLOSS, instead of picking their first song, went with their fourth: “Feelingradation.” To be fair, ReGLOSS just has more music they’ve done as a group compared to Advent (and even most generations in hololive, for that matter), but I still think it was a noticeable decision to not choose “Shunkan Heartbeat.” Much like Advent, however, their progress isn’t an illusion. Todoroki Hajime is still an impeccable dancer (easily top 2 or 3 in hololive) and Otonose Kanade is the heart of the group with her amazing singing, but Hiodoshi Ao, Ichijou Ririka, and Juufuutei Raden all took steps to improve their weaker areas for this performance. Listening to it, I’m reminded how much I love their music; it’s exactly up my alley.
Remember the Big Hits?
Compared to every previous year, I felt that 6th fes emphasized how long hololive has been around. It was like a combination of nostalgia trip, a desire to celebrate personal legacies, and an attempt to capitalize on major successes. For example, this year saw six medley performances—double what was at 5th fes.
In a concert event that is often about mixing things up, it’s also notable that three of the older and more beloved pairings were featured. Shirogane Noel and Shiranui Flare of JP’s 3rd gen (from 2019) once bought matching rings. Shishiro Botan and Yukihana Lamy of JP’s 5th gen were also a close duo when they first started in 2020. Nekomata Okayu and Inugami Korone have a friendship that actually predates hololive, and their song of choice was “If…” by Da Pump, calling back to one of their most viral karaoke moments from four years ago. As if to show off how much they’ve improved, the two performed the song straight instead of breaking into giggles, Okayu covering the singing parts with her buttery voice and Korone handling the rap portions while busting a move and literally doing cartwheels.
Additionally, this year’s fourth concert was called the Creators’ Stage, and it was promoted as a highlight of notable music makers who have worked with Hololive talents. But in light of previous years, which featured concerts promoting full collaborative albums with groups like deco*27 and Honeyworks, the Creators’ Stage felt more conservative. The most unusual thing was seeing what combination of girls sang together. Moreover, the Creators’ featured three songs from Houshou Marine, and while she is one of their most famous members, it felt like either 1) a case of last-minute substitutions or 2) the company really wanted to get the popular songs in. One song was even performed twice, namely Marine and Kobo Kanaeru’s “III” (which I’ve learned is pronounced “Ai-Ai-Ai” and not “Three”). While repeating songs had the advantage of allowing people to hear these songs without purchasing multiple tickets, I suspect this was not the main motivating factor.
I don’t think playing it safe or referencing the past is inherently bad. The medleys can exist because the individual talents have enough songs to make them possible at all. All of it was also still very entertaining, and some of these performances were among my favorites of the weekend. Nevertheless, it came across to me as at least partly an exercise in caution.
The Dancers Grow Ever Stronger
The number of skilled dancers increased and the established ones continued to improve, treating us to some astounding performances.
Hakos Baelz covered Ado’s “Show,” and displayed the intense energy and skill that her fans have come to know and love. While it didn’t have the striking movements of “GEKIRIN” at Breaking Dimensions or the daringness of the interpretive contemporary dance from 5th fes, something about the routine felt like it was specifically designed to accentuate her strongest attributes and to showcase improvements she made in the past year.
Later during an MC section, Bae revealed that she came up with her choreography for “Show” herself. In a post-event stream, she also mentioned that her zombie-like rise from the floor (a move she learned when she was five!) was something she tried to put into last year’s performance, but the technology they used couldn’t handle it. The girl literally pushed the limits of what was possible with Cover’s motion tracking and helped cause it to improve.
The rat wasn’t the only one to put on an amazing dance show. Todoroki Hajime’s smooth confidence showed why she and Bae are seen as the very best. I adore Takanashi Kiara’s “Mirage,” and the adaptations she made to dancing a solo version worked well. Vestia Zeta’s snappy hip and movements are etched into my memory. Aki Rosenthal was originally known as possibly the best dancer early on, looked the best she has in a long time.
Roads Less Traveled
Usually, La+ Darknesss is a part of that list of dancers, and she did make for a great idol dance trio with Matsuri and Momosuzu Nene. However, for her solo performance this year, the leader of holoX eschewed a complex choreography for a greater focus on singing. As a fan of hers, I find this noteworthy because La+’s voice has struggled some ever since illness forced her to change the way she speaks and even laughs. But here, singing “Tokyo Teddy Bear,” she sounded maybe the best she has outside of a studio recording in a while. And while she didn’t have a fully structured routine, she brought her characteristic energy and impeccable sense of poise when posing.
La+ wasn’t the only one to mess with expectations. Korone usually picks an older obscure song (like the opening to a 1990s horse-racing anime), but this time, she actually went with one of her originals (and threw in a one-handed cartwheel). Matsuri jokingly refers to herself as “the pure one (seiso tantou)” when she’s extremely upfront about her horniness, but her performance of her newest original, “Love Letter,” could easily convince listeners that she’s telling the truth about herself. Ouro Kronii—known for her mature, sardonic personality and her equally mature figure—was perhaps the last person anyone expected to sing “Loli Kami Requiem.”
Other performances saw talents go outside their comfort zones. Nanashi Mumei usually focuses mainly on singing but this time danced a fairly elaborate choreography. Kaela Kovalskia is one of the least “stage”-oriented members of hololive, but her cover of Digimon Adventure’s “Brave Heart” was a real crowd pleaser. In this way, there were definitely places where experimentation contrasted with the reliable approach of the concert as a whole.
“Familiar” Doesn’t Mean Bad
While not everyone was about taking on wild new challenges, that doesn’t mean the more expected ones were by any means bad or disappointing. In fact, a lot of these “expected” performances were among my favorites. IRyS sang “TwiLight,” which has become my favorite original song of hers, and gave me exactly what I was hoping for. Oozora Subaru hyped up the crowd through her contagious energy. Tokoyami’s deep voice is still a thrill to experience. Airani Iofifteen went for something cute and poppy, and while her two genmates are better known for their singing prowess, Iofi really played into her niche well. Gawr Gura is already known for having a soothing singing voice, but her cover of the sorrow-laden song “Dango Daikazoku” from Clannad left me with emotions welling up.
And then there’s Haachama, whose orthodoxy is being unorthodox. She came in with her new metal-influenced song titled “Who2” (a play on futsuu, or “normal”), and she expressed a chaotic fervor reminiscent of her duet with Kureiji Ollie from two years ago. If it weren’t for the impact of her surprise return at 5th fes, this would probably be my favorite showing by her yet.
The New Idol Uniforms
The last thing I want to talk about is the fact that almost all hololive members at 6th fes received a new outfi (the exception is ReGLOSS, who already have unique idol outfits). It was the first in two years, and unlike at 4th fes, there’s one general template across all regions instead of having specific designs for Japan, Indonesia, and English branches. I think the design both looks good and stands out as unique compared to all the previous idol outfits, and I particularly enjoy the little aspects that individual talents can customize. The only drawback is something that has applied to all the shared outfits: The bodies are often generalized and don’t necessarily capture the look and proportions of their original models. I hope hololive can make that accommodation someday.
Final Thoughts
hololive 6th fes felt like a victory lap that was also a cautious straddling between the old and the new. In last year’s review, I mentioned how the dramatic rise of hololive made the difference between the older fes events and the most recent ones very apparent. Six events in, we’re now firmly on the side of “grand and polished”—perhaps to such an extent that we can’t ignore its sheer weight as the biggest VTuber company in the world.
When it starts up the engine, hololive has more momentum than anyone else, but it can be hard to change course. At the same time, having a diverse talent pool each with their own strengths means that even if the company as a whole can’t be as nimble, they can still create in-roads to other possibilities. I am fairly optimistic that they can find a decent balance between the two while thinking about the long-term wellbeing of both the company and the people working in it.
Next year will be Justice and FLOW GLOW’s turns to take the big stage, and I’m excited to see how they shine. I get the sense that both groups are going to excel in 3D performances.
When the DX Soul of Chogokin Mechagodzilla figure was announced last year to celebrate the 50th anniversary of Godzilla’s mechanical nemesis, I was drawn to it immediately. The 1974 film Godzilla vs. Mechagodzilla (awkward English dub and all) was a part of my childhood, and seeing this ultra-high-quality representation of the robot menace brought to the surface the realization of just how much I love its design. Between a strong dollar to yen exchange rate, a relatively low cost compared to other figures from the deluxe line (the DX Mazinger Z from thirteen years ago cost twice as much!), and the fact that this Mechagodzilla actually plays its own theme song, this was a must-buy.
Now that I have it in my hands, it makes me think about why exactly I love the classic Showa Mechagodzilla design so much.
Before I elaborate, I want to briefly talk about my experience with the figure itself. This DX SoC Mechagodzilla is so hefty and filled with diecast metal that it was initially cold to the touch. The paint job is intentionally done to give it a bit of shading and depth, and to make it look unpolished, just like in the movie. The articulation is a bit limited, but the head rotates 360 degrees just like when it’s creating a barrier, and it comes with the requisite sound effects (plus many others). About the only thing I wish it had was the song that plays when the monster first drops its disguise and is revealed in all its terrifying chrome glory, in addition to the main theme. Just playing with this toy affirms how fantastic it is.
The Showa version is also my favorite Mechagodzilla iteration ever, and it’s not just nostalgia at work. As an iconic Godzilla villain, Mechagodzilla has appeared in every era of the movie franchise, and it gets updated to match the times. The Heisei, Millennium, and Monsterverse versions are all cool in their own ways. Yet, they don’t have the same charm. The first two are almost too sleek, and the way they replicate the chest and arm muscles of Godzilla kind of detracts from the aesthetic for me. The last one, I’m not as much of a fan of the silhouette and the Michael Bay Transformers–esque bits and dongles.
In contrast, the Showa Mechagodzilla has just the right balance of “imperfection” to me, both in its 70s-era idea of “futuristic technology” and the fact that it’s not actually trying to closely adhere to the actual Godzilla’s appearance. This version looks like hunks and sheets of metal riveted together. The cybernetic behemoth mimics the broad strokes of Godzilla’s body but not the finer details. Even the fact that it doesn’t try to match its inspiration’s approach to fighting is something I find appealing—the original Mechagodzilla comes with its own arsenal of rays and missiles, yet it doesn’t even bother to have its own version of Godzilla’s signature atomic breath. And it definitely has my favorite face of them all, one that’s distinct and menacing with its pointed and angular shape. The result is that Mechagodzilla is less about appearing “perfect” and more geared towards the goal of destruction and conquest.
I really do think that the Showa Mechagodzilla design is eternal. It’s identifiably of its era, but I find it to be more timeless than any of its descendants.
Mecha-Ude: Mechanical Arms is a series that went under the radar and deserves attention. In an industry that can often play it safe, here is an anime that first began as a Kickstarter project before being turned into a full-fledged TV series.
In Mecha-Ude, mysterious otherworldly sentient beings resembling mechanical arms arrived on Earth, and were found to be able to fuse with humans and grant them new and powerful abilities. In the present, these Mecha-Ude are still something of a secret, but they’re integrated into a number of organizations each with their own aim. But when average middle schooler Amatsuga Hikaru discovers an amnesiac Mecha-Ude named Alma who is on the run from the wealthiest corporation around, Hikaru’s decision to save Alma brings him into this world he never knew about.
Mecha-Ude is not amazingly innovative in terms of story or setting, but it just does a lot very solidly. The simple gimmick of the Mecha-Ude makes for fights and action scenes that aren’t overly bloated like what one might see in a shounen battle anime. Hikaru and the main cast of characters are endearing because they’re a bunch of silly dumb-dumbs who nevertheless have to deal with serious problems that range from the personal to the Earth-shattering. In this sense, it actually manages to portray its middle schoolers in a way that’s both wish fulfillment for younger viewers and an accurate portrayal of the way youth can be both empowering and limiting.
(Also, there’s a ninja character who shares a voice actor with Volfogg from Gaogaigar).
The result is a series that successfully mixes the dramatic, the silly, and the heartfelt into a short-yet-sweet work of SF action.
The people behind Mecha-Ude are Studio TriF, and this is actually the group’s first anime. It’s about as good a start as I think a fledgling studio can possibly have, so I really hope they have a bright future ahead of them.
Optimus Prime and Megatron are iconic adversaries as the heroic and villainous leaders of the Transformers franchise. We’ve seen endless iterations of them in animation, comics, films, and more, and now Transformers One provides an origin story about the two rivals when they were best of friends. Going into the film, I expected at most a decent if predictable work, only to discover a narrative that is surprisingly political. Not only does it focus on a suppressed underclass throwing off their chains, but its portrayal of the differences in left- and right-wing thinking is remarkably enlightening for what is ostensibly a cartoon popcorn flick.
Transformers One centers on Optimus and Megatron when they were known by their original names: Orion Pax and D-16. The two are denizens of Cybertron, where they eke out a living as non-transforming miners of energon, the essential power source that runs their planet. Orion is brash and headstrong, while D-16 is more cautious, but the two have something in common: They both look up to Sentinel Prime, their world’s current leader and the last surviving member of the strongest Cybertronians, the Primes. When the two friends discover a clue to the missing Matrix of Leadership that can restore the once free-flowing energon of Cybertron, they embark on a mission to help Sentinel.
The Cybertronian Caste System
The class friction between the transforming elite and the non-transforming laborers would in itself provide plenty to chew on, but in a major plot twist, it’s revealed that Sentinel is actually a traitor who betrayed the Primes and now sells off the planet’s energon to the very enemy they had been warring against so that he alone can exist at the top. Even worse, Orion and D-16 learn that all are born with the ability to transform, and Sentinel has been forcibly removing it. In other words, Cybertron is a world where a lone robot sold out his people in a coup, enslaves the majority of the people by robbing them of autonomy that is their birthright, and reserves that power for loyalists and those who promote this hegemony. Worse still, the leader has deceived his subjects into believing he is a great and benevolent hero.
I really, truly did not expect this out of Transformers. While this is a franchise with famous lines like “Freedom is the right of all sentient beings” and “Until all are one,” this is a level of overt political theming well beyond what is typical.
Megatron’s True Driving Force
But it’s with D-16, particularly the way he contrasts with Orion that impresses me most because it shows how Megatron’s own right-wing authoritarian nature comes not from a place of strength, but one of fear. One would think him to be the rule breaker between the two, but D-16 worries about losing what little he has already gained. He sees Sentinel Prime as a leader who can do no wrong until he discovers the truth, and when he does, he lashes out at Orion for shattering the comforting illusion. Every time he gains more power, he increasingly sees himself as someone who must exert his superiority over others because they would do the same to him. And when Orion takes a shot meant for D-16 and the latter sends the former to his seeming death, it’s not a premeditated backstab but an impromptu action fueled by the fact that D-16 blames Orion for the loss of his stable world.
I felt that the 1986 animated movie was very revealing in terms of the inherent cowardice of Megatron. While Starscream is usually portrayed as the snake, it was clear that Megatron was cut from the same cloth when confronted by a vastly stronger being in Unicron. Transformers One complements that image by showing how D-16 would have been satisfied living as a lowly drone if he felt everything was in its place in the social hierarchy.
As for Orion, he clearly leans towards the liberal and left side of the political spectrum. His self-sacrifice is what grants him access to the Matrix of Leadership and direct contact with the god of the Transformers, Primus. He’s willing to fight to protect the lives and freedoms of all, but his willingness to let Megatron go at the end of the new film can be argued as the wrong choice, given what we know of the Decepticon leader down the line.
Side note: I really like how Orion’s conversion into Optimus Prime is a lot like Megatron’s own forced change into Galvatron by Unicron in the 1986 film. In lore, Primus and Unicron are brothers who are eternally opposed to each other.
Final Thoughts
Transformers One does a remarkably solid job of showing how two individuals could be true friends at a point in their lives when they have next to nothing, and then have it fall apart once they have more. The differences between Orion and D-16 go from small cracks easily ignored to massive fissures that threaten to tear everything apart. And central to it all is the question of what to do with power in the face of injustice.
The untimely passing of Toriyama Akira was one of history’s biggest blows to the world of manga and anime. While he had long since taken more of a backseat role for his most famous titles, knowing that he was there to provide some guidance for the Dragon Ball franchise lended some reassurance that his vision was included. So when the anime Dragon Ball Daima was announced, there was a real weight to its very existence: It’s the last work in the franchise Toriyama had his hand in and an inadvertent farewell message as a result.
According to reports, Toriyama was more involved with Dragon Ball Daima than he had been with other anime in years, but regardless of the exact amount, I think the end result manages to successfully capture his spirit and the spirit of Dragon Ball as a whole. Daima celebrates what has come and expands the world of its characters in a way that fascinates the imagination.
Dragon Ball Daima takes place after the climactic battle with Majin Buu in Dragon Ball Z. Unbeknownst to Goku and friends, King Gomah of the Demon Realm has been observing them, and is alarmed at how powerful they are. Majin Buu, it turns out, actually comes from the Demon Realm, and was a force so menacing that he was thought impossible to defeat. Gomah gets paranoid that they might come over to his side and overthrow him, so he uses the Demon Realm’s Dragon Balls to make a wish to turn Goku and the others into children to reduce their power, and kidnaps a now-infant Dende (current guardian of Earth’s Dragon Balls) to prevent them from undoing the wish. Unfortunately for Gomah, this actually becomes the motivation for the crew to travel to the Demon Realm and fix everything that’s gone awry.
Or to put it a little differently: This is Dragon Ball GT except instead of traveling to different planets, Kid Goku visits a magical world of demons. In a sense, it’s “What if Toriyama did GT?,” and it’s wonderful.
Dragon Ball Daima strikes a nice balance for itself that incorporates the whimsy of the early stories and the action of Dragon Ball Z, resulting in an anime that’s fun and lighthearted but also knows how to crank up the tension and excitement at key moments.
One of my favorite things about Daima is that in addition to the excellent action (some of the best Dragon Ball has ever seen), it’s also about the thrill of exploring a new world. There are unusual creatures and environments, insights into the culture of demons, and even revelations on series lore. Notably, it turns out that Namekians are originally from the Demon Realm, and that’s also where the first Dragon Balls come from. This reveal is very amusing because Piccolo was originally supposed to be a demon in the mystical sense, only to later be retconned into an alien. But actually, Daima says, they’re really demons who emigrated to the universe we know, and settled on a world that became Planet Namek! In other words, they’re demons and aliens.
Brilliant.
Another aspect that Daima highlights is that martial prowess alone isn’t always enough. One of Goku’s travel companions is actually the Supreme Kai—a character who didn’t really get much attention in the rest of the series. Here, though, his wisdom, knowledge, and cleverness are on display; and it gives me a new appreciation for him. We even learn his real name! Another character, among the antagonists’, is also more about brains than brawn, and is severely underestimated even by their own side. To have someone like that in a fairly major role in Dragon Ball of all things is kind of amazing.
Dragon Ball Daima is only 20 episodes, and so it doesn’t suffer from needing a huge time investment or endless filler or any of the things that can make Dragon Ball intimidating to get into (or get back into, as the case may be). This is a short and sweet work where the meandering elements, the focused battles, and everything in between are truly a joy to experience.
The 2024 anime Bartender: Glass of God stands out to me because of how different it is from the previous Bartender anime from 2006.
Both series adapt a manga about a bartender named Sasakura Ryu whose observation skills and alcohol-mixing expertise allow him to help customers work through whatever problems plague them by providing them just the right drink. But the 2006 version came from director Imagawa Yasuhiro and leaned more into the director’s roots with Mister Ajikko and its establishment of the now common trope of “seeing characters make exaggerated reactions to the incredible food and beverages they consume.” It feels more like a healing anime not far from the slice-of-life titles that usually populate that genre, and Sasakura’s presence is downright therapeutic.
In contrast, Glass of God does show Ryu as a generational talent in bartending, he’s situated in a greater world. He may be amazing, and there are characters who want him for their hotel bar, but Ryu is not necessarily the best. He’s in the middle of his own journey that has him occasionally cross paths with those who are even better at making and serving drinks. Whereas the 2006 series feels like one where time stands still, the 2024 series gives the impression of progress, however gradual it might be.
While this might sound like a cop-out, I feel there are benefits to both. Sometimes, you might need meditative work to repair a bruised soul. Other times, you might need something that invigorates and motivates instead. Right now, I think I need a bit of both.
It’s amazing to see what Gridman has become. Thanks to Studio Trigger’s SSSS.Gridmanand SSSS.Dynazenon, we’ve had a franchise revival that’s a love letter to its origins as a 90s tokusatsu series (Gridman the Hyper Agent) while telling new and interesting stories. As someone who loved Superhuman Samurai Syber-Squad as a kid (and always feels a little giddy at the inclusion of “SSSS” in Trigger’s anime titles), it feels great. So of course I’d want to see the latest movie, Gridman Universe, which promised from the start to bring together the characters of both SSSS series.
I had to wonder about one issue, however: While SSSS.Dynazeon is a “sequel,” it was never clear how exactly the two series connect. In fact, the finale of SSSS.Gridman makes fully reconciling it with other works seem impossible. Well, the movie does address this discrepancy, and the solution is both obvious in hindsight while still being fairly elegant, but it’s ultimately a less important factor.
Gridman Universe is a compelling work whose success has little to do with considerations for “canon” and “lore.” In fact, it almost entirely eschews those elements. Rather than focus on them, it foregrounds three aspects in particular that have become the soul of the franchise in more recent times. First, there’s the characters, whose stories of healing are bolstered by how natural they feel, to the point that they sometimes don’t sound like anime characters. Second, there’s the sense of play that comes from its tokusatsu roots: endless transformations and awesome fight scenes, but also being vehicles for imagination and wonder. Third, there’s the Gridman name itself as a concept, brand, and source of nostalgia.
The movie begins with two of the characters trying to write a play for their school festival about Gridman. Takarada Rikka and Utsumi Sho are the the only ones left who remember the events of SSSS.Gridman—namely that monsters kept attacking the city, only to be defeated by the giant hero Gridman, and that series antagonist Shinjo Akane was actually an IRL human who created their very world as a way to deal with personal trauma. Rikka wants more than anything to tell everyone about Akane, while Sho is a tokusatsu fanboy who prioritizes monster fighting and cool action. In that contrast alone, the first two aspects of Gridman are evident. The problem is that their classmates keep rejecting their scripts because they think it’s too unrealistic and far-fetched, particularly the story of Akane as the forgotten “god” of their world.
The third element comes into the spotlight through the character Hibiki Yuta, the very guy who merges with the entity known as Gridman to fight. Despite being the “hero,” he has no memories of what transpired, and only knows because Rikka and Sho have told him. This movie is actually the first time we really see Yuta’s true personality, because the ending of SSSS.Gridman reveals that Gridman had actually taken over Yuta’s body during that time. His own story involves not only trying to confess his feelings for Akane that were delayed due to that amnesia, but trying to see if his importance was reduced to just being a vessel for Gridman.
When the monsters start attacking again, Gridman returns, followed by Dynazenon characters and more as worlds collide. These events all contribute to the push-and-pull that exists between the characters’ goals for their play and in Gridman Universe as a whole. Not only does having everyone together mean more opportunities to see cool crossover moments, but paths open up to address unresolved emotions of all kinds, see how the cast of one show responds to the character dynamics in the other, and even bring in unexpected figures and reveals whose presences take the film even further into the territory of meta-commentary about what’s important to the thing we call Gridman.
There’s a moment in the film that I think speaks to the core of Studio Trigger’s Gridman works, where a villain talks about knowing everything that the heroes are capable of, and can thus predict everything they do with ease. The heroes respond by basically just devising random new ideas on the spot, trying out every different combination sequence they can think of, as if they’re the toys of kids who are playing pretend and just making stuff up as they go along. While this scene most obviously connects to the tokusatsu side, it also carries the drama and the brand by being the culmination of Rikka’s hopes and Yuta’s self-reflection.
I actually had a chance to watch Gridman Universe a few years ago, but I wasn’t able to. While I wish the wait hadn’t been quite so long, I’m glad that it’s available to watch now. Gridman Universe is a brilliant movie that merges many seemingly disparate parts into a harmonious whole that really encourages viewers to think about how they engage with their favorite works, all while celebrating the simple fun and creativity that comes from the franchise itself, the creators who help bring it to life, and the fans who elevate it.
You never know for sure who’s a fan of Initial D. While there are folks who are almost guaranteed to enjoy it due to a love of Japanese cars, I’ve seen quite a few people who aren’t really into that sort of thing will still embrace the series. Maybe it’s the exciting Eurobeat soundtrack, or getting to see an underdog whupping everyone, or just enjoying characters babbling about turbo engines and anti-lock brakes and what-not. Like many good anime and manga, the series has the ability to draw in people who might not care about the topic it focuses on.
The sequel, MF Ghost, isn’t nearly as compelling—at least not at first. For one, it doesn’t even have its first big race until the start of the second season. And when it finally gets there, the format isn’t as immediately and viscerally thrilling. Street racing duels have made way for 15-car competitions, trading a more direct fight for a complex mosaic of moving vehicles. That has its appeal in its own right, and it has kept me watching, but it’s different nevertheless.
But even as fun as the races are, MF Ghost has some weird personalities, and some of the dudes are the worst. Initial D was never a bastion of great characters, but there were some real charismatic personalities in there, and even the worst assholes and cheaters are compelling in their own way. In comparison, one of the top racers in MF Ghost is a guy who refuses to date anyone older than 17. An ally of the main character, a generally upstanding and generous racer, is in love with one of the race queens who’s secretly a high schooler (To his credit, he isn’t aware of this). The same girl is also the primary love interest of the main character (who’s closer in age), making for a strange love triangle.
Between all that and the weird underwear-like outfits of the race queens (aka the “Angels”), a lot of MF Ghost on the character side feels like an old person’s idea of young romance. The girl, Ren, has a sweet and gentle personality, albeit somewhat different from a lot of current heroines who could be similarly described. Maybe it’s the lack of pointed fetishes in her design and personality specifically that contrasts with a lot of current manga, anime, and light novels. She’s also a far cry from either of Takumi from Initial D’s romantic prospects, which makes me further believe that the author created her to have a more general appeal
So that’s my experience with MF Ghost. Sometimes, it’s legitimately exciting. Other times, I can feel my face scrunch up into a weird frown when some character does something really off. I guess my desire to see the underdog still pulls through.
I watched Demon Lord 2099, an anime about a vanquished Demon Lord who revives in a magitech cyberpunk future. This former ruler, Veltol Velvet Velsvalt, discovers that one of his generals heads the largest corporation in the world and by extension the way magic is used and controlled in society. Not long after their reunion, it’s revealed that this general, Marcus, would rather not cede his position at the top of the world, and betrays his former master. Marcus prides himself on being the strongest, and therefore the true Demon Lord of the modern day.
WARNING: Demon Lord 2099 spoilers.
But there’s a recurring idea in the anime that springs forth from Marcus’s desire: Just because you’re the best around doesn’t mean you’re the greatest or even endowed with greatness. This is an idea that occurs all the time in competitive environments, such as sports, video games, and music. Is Michael Jordan the GOAT of basketball, or is it Lebron James? RTS fans used to debate what makes someone a Starcraft bonjwa, a fan title reserved for a select pantheon of players, of which there are arguably only five or so. Heck, the first thing that came to mind when I saw Demon Lord 2099 highlight the difference between “best” and “greatest” is F.D Signifier’s hours-long video about Drake vs. Kendrick Lamar, where he describes the reluctance among many fans of rap towards accepting Drake as the king of his era, and the enthusiasm with which they embraced Kendrick upon his return.
Being the greatest seems to require not merely a list of accomplishments, but to also have an aura that comes out in one’s actions and behavior. In Demon Lord 2099, this notion sees its culmination in a rematch, where Veltol reveals to his betrayer that he has a second and more powerful form, as per the classic video game final boss trope. In this new guise (unknown to all but the hero who bested him long ago), Veltol neutralizes all the technological advantages Marcus created for himself and humiliates the traitor. The Demon Lord also reveals the source of his power: He cannot achieve this second form unless he has enough worshippers, which he has spent time regaining by becoming a popular streamer. Marcus tried to clothe himself in greatness without embodying any of the qualities that make for greatness, be it inherent ability or the acknowledgement of the people.
“Greatness” is, of course, subjective by nature. Different people will value different things, and second boss forms aren’t a thing in reality unless you maybe count competitors being incredibly clutch in key situations. But I think the difference between “best” and “greatest” seems to be in the words themselves: whether you are simply better than those around you, or you want to carry your craft to higher heights and possibly even use it for a more profound purpose.
OGIUE MANIAX