Tardy with the Tardis: I Finally Checked Out Doctor Who

Of all the decades-long science fiction mega franchises in the world, Doctor Who is definitely one where I’ve long had little, if any exposure. 

In my head, it was always this series where people got mad if I called the main character “Doctor Who.” It also had the image of being a relatively low-budget serial adventure that suddenly became big again around 2006 or so, had been going on since television was black and white, and somehow had still kept going. It was (somehow) a still-ongoing story whose various hiccups and plot inconsistencies can be hand-waved away with suspension of disbelief and time travel shenanigans—not unlike a mix of soap opera, pro wrestling, and Star Trek, with shades of the legacy of Buffy the Vampire Slayer in more modern times. 

Oh, and I enjoyed seeing that one scene of Daleks vs. Cybermen. It works even without knowing a single bit of actual Doctor Who context. 

But until recently, I don’t think I quite appreciated the lasting impact Doctor Who has made on culture and entertainment—not just in the UK, but around the world too.

I think there were two things that prompted me to start looking at the series more in-depth. First, I kept seeing people (including VTubers like Gawr Gura) make reference to the Doctor Who monsters known as Weeping Angels. Second, I read that the Doctor Who theme song is iconic, identifiable, and still very unique even after 60 years…and I couldn’t recognize it even if you played it in full for me. Knowing that this was a missing piece of television and pop culture education in my brain was my motivation to learn. And with a lot of help from a very well-maintained official Doctor Who Youtube channel, I started to just watch clips of iconic scenes from throughout its run going all the way back to the First Doctor. I read discussions about “who’s the best Doctor,” knowing that this debate has been going on for literal decades and across generations and waves of nostalgia. I learned that the aforementioned theme song is one of the two most continuously used theme songs ever (the other being James Bond), and even influenced Pink Floyd.

But one thing I held back on was watching actual full episodes of Doctor Who. Where do you even start? It’s a challenging question, even when compared to similarly old franchises like Gundam or Star Wars don’t have to face. In those cases, “go with some version of the original” does the trick, but with Doctor Who, there are literal episodes of the early era that were never archived, and by most estimations, Doctor Who didn’t hit its stride until at least a few years in.

I ultimately went with “Genesis of the Daleks,” a story from the Fourth Doctor era, because I read that it’s a widely beloved episode featuring one of the most popular Doctors of all time. I understood that it risked color my perception of Doctor Who to an extent, and that it would give me perhaps a different impression from the 21st-century “New Who” era that helped drive Tumblr discourse for over a decade alongside Supernatural and Sherlock (the so-called SuperWhoLock fandom). If this was the “peak” of Doctor Who, I tried to remember that the series is a range and not a single mountain.

I was impressed. Within the caveat of it still being fairly hokey, the basic plot is surprisingly serious and fraught with profound ethical dilemmas. The Doctor being forced to go back in time to try and stop the creation of the cruel, genocidal war machines that would become his greatest nemesis. He finds himself in a “would you shoot Baby Hitler?” scenario and a chance to convince the father of this army of Baby Hitlers to change his mind, only to realize that this creator is beyond all help. (And if the Nazi analogy wasn’t clear enough, all the soldiers fighting this forever war are all very SS-coded.) For a show aware of and expecting young viewers among its audience, these are heavy topics.

(I also can’t help but think about the fact that Nazis were still fresh in the general memory of humanity at this point. It’s perhaps appropriate that I’m watching this at a time when we are realizing once again that Nazism and fascism are clear and present threats that must be confronted.)

But even putting aside the weightiness of the topics, what truly makes “Genesis of the Daleks” work are the performances of the actors themselves. Tom Baker as the Doctor is so very convincing, both in terms of his portrayal of this eccentric protagonist around whom the series revolves, but also with the way he seems to really grapple morally and philosophically with the potential impacts of his decisions. Baker isn’t alone, either, as other actors (notably Elizabeth Sladen as Sarah Jane Smith) also bring a sense of sincerity to their performances. 

The ability to make you believe that the characters believe their own words reminds me a lot of tokusatsu from Japan: The shows might look cheap, but the actors and presentation make the stakes feel real, and that’s something that can ring true on some level even if the writing, the visuals, or storytelling styles change. It’s also the case that, like Doctor Who, franchises such as Ultraman and Kamen Rider have themselves been ongoing for decades—with new protagonists coming in on a regular basis, and with continuous growing pains as they try to adapt to the changing times. Because of all this, I came to the conclusion that Doctor Who is basically British tokusatsu.

It’s actually more coincidence than anything else that I started watching Doctor Who during a time that I’ve heard about some wild things going on. I don’t pretend to have an opinion on all that because, well, I’ve just dipped my toes in. But it is funny and amazing to me that this work of fiction is somehow both massive and small, and that it has existed long enough to have made a mark on both the history of prog rock and Tumblr. I don’t know how much more I’ll end up watching, but never say never.

And did I write all that just to talk about watching a single Doctor Who story? Yes. Yes I did.

Parafusion Starmie and Memories of Early Pokémon Gen 2 Theorycrafting

I’ve been thinking about Pokémon a whole bunch lately, particularly about the online community and how much time has passed. The competitive players I considered my friends are so far in the past that the next generation after them is considered the “old school.” I met many of them during Generation 1, and one of the most fascinating times was in the transition to Generation 2, particularly with regard to theorycrafting.

The importance and limitations of theorycrafting is something all players have to deal with in any competitive environment, but back when information was scarce and we only had questionably translated materials from the Japanese release, it really felt like something different. As with every generation change, players on sites like Azure Heights tried to figure out what would be strong in Gold and Silver. One answer that came up was Starmie.

On paper, it made sense. Starmie was among the top picks in Red, Blue, and Yellow. It was fast. It hit hard. Its movepool was also among the best. Not only did it learn powerful moves that benefited from its Water/Psychic typing (Psychic, Surf, Hydro Pump), but it could also cover every type combination in the game with Ice Beam and Thunderbolt (or Blizzard, which was ~90% accurate in Gen 1), and it learned amazing defensive/support moves in the paralyzing Thunder Wave and the health-restoring Recover. Being Psychic type was also a huge boon in a generation where they had no actual weaknesses.

Gen 2 introduced egg moves: techniques that Pokémon could only learn via breeding. This could potentially be transformative, and one move stood out in Starmie’s list: Confuse Ray. Being both paralyzed (25% chance to not move at all combined with a 75% speed reduction) and confused (50% chance to hit yourself and not execute a move) was among the most annoying things to deal with in Gen 1. To have parafusion on a single Pokémon seemed like a nightmare scenario, and so Starmie was predicted to be a serious meta threat. 

Time proved things out differently, however. While parafusion could still be annoying, the changes made to the battle system went far beyond players’ early theorycrafting. The dividing of the Special stat into two (Special Attack and Special Defense) meant that moves like Amnesia and Psychic were not quite as effective. The introduction of the Dark and Steel type, and to a lesser extent the improvements made to Bug, all took away the Psychic types’ major advantage. Curse turned out to be an incredibly strong move, especially when paired with an incredibly bulky choice like Snorlax—even when stuck in place while paralyzed and confused, they could weather the storm and Rest off the damage. Heal Bell, a move that removed all the status effects inflicted on your own team, trivialized attacks like Thunder Wave. And this is the generation Mean Look and Perish Song was introduced, creating the Perish Trap strategy that could lock opponents in and force them into no-win scenarios.

Back then, the false hype of parafusion Starmie taught me something important: People will theorize based on their previous experiences because that’s what they have to rely on, and that strength is relative. Strategies don’t exist in a vacuum, and things that were considered universally strong sometimes falter in a different environment. (And sometimes, things are actively nerfed.) This is far from the only instance of theory not matching practice in Pokémon or even beyond, but it’s one I remember with a strong tinge of nostalgia.

La+ Darknesss Birthday 2025 and the Proximity of Fandom

Laplus Darknesss from hololive posing on stage. She's a short girl with long white hair and large purple horns in a dark dress.

Today is hololive VTuber La+ Darknesss’s birthday, and that has me thinking about her relationship with her fans. In a world that both passively and actively encourages talent and fans alike to fall into obsession, she rarely lets others dictate what directions to go.

I like watching new VTubers debut. Variety is the spice of life, and you never know who’s going to be a pleasant surprise. But I’ve also noticed something when looking at reactions to these reveals: There’s a certain kind of viewer who seems very eager to throw their full support behind someone or something. With just an initial introduction (or even less) to work off of, this type of fan behaves like they’re looking desperately for a conduit for their passion

This can be just another way of engaging with online personalities, albeit one that differs from my more hesitant “wait and see” approach. A forlorn heart might yearn to be recognized and have its intense feelings reciprocated, so having some kind of outlet can be healthy. The fact that this can turn into genuine feelings of attraction and affection can still be okay if there is recognition and understanding of the limits of this relationship. 

Where it starts to get iffy is when someone either projects all their values and fantasies into a figure and fails to at least admit that this is projection, or when the eagerness to find a fandom turns into bitterness. That’s the point at which being parasocial becomes harmful, and I worry about both sides in these scenarios.

Some will play into this dynamic, but La+ has a bit of an unusual relationship with her viewers. She is herself an idol fan, and she has expressed empathy for those who have been hurt by an idol revealing that they have a significant other. She’s also a self-professed doutan kyouhi: a competitive fan who does not want to interact with others who share the same particular fandom. She knows what it’s like to be obsessed with someone…but she doesn’t actively seek to be that object for other people. 

The way the holoX commander prefers to hold her fans at arm’s length has actually at times garnered her haters. They wish she was something she’s not trying to be, and the fact that she doesn’t conform to their desires bothers them. She’ll make connections outside of hololive in big collabs with people regardless of gender or genre. She’ll gush over Mai Shiranui from the Fatal Fury franchise, channeling the energy of fighting game fans who grew up in the 1990s and 2000s despite not being of that era. She’ll ask to be insulted by her colleagues in hololive with mature voices. She’ll even come up with an official name for her fans (Plusmates), but never actually use it. And when others talk about what La+ is like behind the scenes, they’ll mention how hard she works for herself, her peers, and her fans. That’s something I really appreciate about her: She does her own thing and appears to have a good time in the process. 

La+ Darknesss prefers to act as a fellow fan who has the privilege of doing idol-like activities, such as singing and dancing on stage. In this way, seems to look at the fans who might potentially become her most obsessive and parasocial supporters, and says, “I get where you’re coming from, but I can’t be that for you. I can entertain you, though.” That’s just fine by me.

Kizuna AI and the Realest Timeskip

Kizuna AI, the Virtual Youtuber who coined the very term itself and was once known as the big boss of VTubers, made her return last month after a three-year hiatus. While she has announced that she won’t be doing things the same way this time around, one major change is that she’s using an entirely new model that makes her look more mature. She’s been likened to a mom, and even a former delinquent turned mom.  

VTubers upgrading or even changing models isn’t all that rare. Some even drastically change appearances while under the same identity. But it feels different with Kizuna AI, and I think it’s because with her, it’s almost like a timeskip straight out of anime and manga.

Unlike most other VTuber makeovers, in which the switch happens almost instantly, AI was gone for three years. An actual significant amount of time has passed in the real world, and now she has the aura of someone who is at a different stage of her life. In a space where it’s still standard to portray more youthful characters regardless of the actual performers’ ages, having the figure most synonymous with VTubing break away from that trend (if ever so slightly) is a fairly big deal.

Perhaps allowing VTubers to reflect the growth of the performers has its own merits. As Houshou Marine once put it, “the age of 30 is in demand,” but maybe 30 is only the start. 

Marvel Rivals and the Ever-Changing Nature of the Invisible Woman

Marvel Rivals has recently introduced the Fantastic Four to its roster, and like the other heroes and villains, they’ve received designs meant to capture the spirits of the characters while giving them a modern game-oriented feel. Among them is the Invisible Woman, and thanks to the game’s behind-the-back camera, one thing is clear: Susan Storm-Richards has quite a butt.

Big buttocks and thick thighs are popular these days, so this isn’t particularly surprising in and of itself. However, the fact that they would give Sue a body in that direction makes me realize something: Perhaps no other character in superhero comics more thoroughly reflects the evolution of trends in female beauty standards than the Invisible Woman.

In my look at VTuber Takanashi Kiara’s 1980s-inspired aerobics outfit, I mentioned that its emphasis on a more voluptuous lower body does not match the dominant thin aesthetic that existed back then. The Invisible Woman goes back even further in time, to the introduction of The Fantastic Four in 1961. And while she’s not alone in that regard (there are female heroes who have been around far longer than her), the difference is that Susan has very few specific iconic features that define how she’s “supposed” to look.

The Invisible Woman is meant to be very attractive (enough that Namor is constantly infatuated with her), but not to the extent of a manslayer like the Enchantress. Other than being blonde, she’s not associated with specific physical features, like Power Girl and her large chest or She-Hulk and her muscular green physique. Her costume isn’t particularly iconic or defining, like with Supergirl or Psylocke. And her powers are actually less conducive to establishing her visual identity compared to most others, including her teammates—”stretchy with graying temples,” “man entirely on fire,” and “big rock guy” are instantly identifiable in a way Sue isn’t.

So over the course of six decades, Sue’s look has changed over and over. Her hairstyles have included long, short, straight, curly, simple, coiffed, Mary Tyler Moore, mullet, and everything in between. Her costumes have ranged from conservative to astoundingly daring: form-fitting, skin-tight, that famous design from the 1990s with the cleavage-exposing “4” on her chest. While she’s generally thin, fairly busty, and pretty, her proportions have all fluctuated a bit. To some extent, this can be chalked up to individual artists’ tastes, but I think it’s notable that they can play around this much with her design compared to other female superheroes.

In the context of Marvel Rivals, the Invisible Woman seems to be influenced by two factors aside from “big butts are in.” First, there’s Sue’s status in the Marvel Universe as a kind of matron of superheroes due to her age and experience. Second, Marvel Rivals is clearly trying to be the next Overwatch, and that includes its reputation for sexy characters who are arguably more famous than the games themselves. In other words, the Invisible Woman is very 21st-century MILF-coded, not unlike Elastigirl from The Incredibles—a series that itself clearly draws a lot of inspiration from the Fantastic Four.

If the Invisible Woman is getting attention again in ten years’ time, I wonder how she’ll look then.

Thinking About Mazinger Legs

I’ve been looking at the Kakumei Shinka Mazinger line from Soul of Chogokin, and the first thing that stood out to me was the legs. They’re slimmer than what immediately comes to mind when I think of Mazinger, and so I decided to just look at other images: anime screenshots, manga images, other toys, etc.

There are two things I’ve noticed. First, the Kakumei Shinka line more closely follows the original manga designs in terms of silhouette. Second, the lower halves of Mazinger’s limbs really run the gamut, from relatively svelte to Popeye-esque.

I don’t know why exactly this variation occurs, but I’d hazard that it’s about the constant push and pull between adhering to the original, appealing to nostalgia, and attempting modernization. The first Soul of Chogokin was the realization of a concept: high-end toys for the child fan who has grown up. It reflects a goal of looking more mature. The GX-07 is based on the Mazinger Z from the 90s Mazinkaiser OVAs, where it has some 90s flourishes but isn’t supposed to be the absolute unit that Mazinkaiser is. Other versions, like those based on Shin Mazinger and Mazinger Z: Infinity take their own angles as well.

I think I prefer the ones with a bit more heft, but I definitely find a certain charm in the manga/70s anime look. It gives Mazinger Z (and Great Mazinger) a more human feel that’s more superhero than weapon. 

So, to any readers, I have to ask: What are your favorite Mazinger legs?

Best Anime Characters of 2024

BEST MALE CHARACTER 

Laios Touden (Delicious in Dungeon)

Finding characters you can relate to is part of the fun of fiction. Over the years, I’ve found a fair many that I could connect to, but exceedingly few have spoken to the core of my very being  in the same way as Laios Touden.

Laios lives in a fantasy world filled with magic and the supernatural, where he has the unusual hobby of eating monsters, but there are layers to that passion. Sure, he wants to know the best ways to cook the beasts that populate the dungeon, but he’s not like his travel companion Senshi, who wants to find the peak of labyrinth cooking. Instead, what drives Laios is culinary discovery and exploration. More important than figuring out what tastes best is the desire to taste flavors he’s never come across before, and to eat things that might not even be considered edible to most others. If I were in his shoes, I would be the same way. He and I share a similar philosophy: “You don’t know how it’ll taste until you actually eat it.”

And if Laios were just a goofy, relatable guy, that would be enough. But there’s a depth to his silly charm. He’s basically never lost his childhood curiosity, and his enthusiasm is both infectious and a positive force on everyone who gets to know him. I could only hope to be so lucky to do the same for the people I know.

BEST FEMALE CHARACTER

Frieren (Frieren: Beyond Journey’s End)

Over the past fifteen years, it’s often felt like anime has been lacking more traditional fantasy series. Then in comes Frieren: Beyond Journey’s End to show that something more classical-feeling still has a place. It feels refreshingly new yet orthodox, and central to that success is the protagonist herself.

Frieren is an elf mage who has basically already accomplished her biggest quest ever, and is now on a journey to retrace her old steps, indulge in her hobby of collecting obscure and delightfully frivolous spells, and help guide a new generation of adventurers. Her long years mean she has lived experience of things lost to time to most, yet she neither puts stock in the old or the new just because. To her, everything is a valuable learning experience. In a way, she reminds me of a previous Best Character of the Year, Yang Wen-Li from Legend of the Galactic Heroes.

There’s something that I think sums Frieren (and by extension the themes of the series) very well: How the character Serie sees her. To most, Frieren is like a walking myth and impossibly powerful, but Serie is actually even older and stronger. In her eyes, the younger elf has squandered her years and is well below her magical potential—like someone with 30 years of experience in a foreign language only being as fluent as someone who’s been studying for 20. However, Frieren sees value in pursuing things at the pace you want for the things you value, and it’s a lesson I constantly try to take to heart.

BEST ROBOT BRO

Bravern (Bang Brave Bang Bravern)

There is possibly no character who flips his entire world on its head more thoroughly than Bravern. When you first enter the story of Bang Brave Bang Bravern, you think it’s this gritty, relatively realistic mecha story. Colors are dark and subdued. Then, when a fearsome enemy attacks that overwhelms conventional human militaries, in comes a mysterious and bright-red super robot reminiscent of 90s Yuusha anime with little need for an indoor voice, but he literally plays his own fiery, trumpet-filled theme song!

Bravern is not just a fun character—he’s a representative of a style of giant robot and giant heroics lost to time. And he’s the massive unit you want by your side, whether for the bro friendship or the bromance. Or, you know.

FINAL THOUGHTS

Laios and Frieren have a lot in common. They’re both protagonists of fantasy series that have garnered incredible acclaim among fans and critics alike. The two are so popular that you might well accuse me of making the most boring and obvious choices. Yet, while it’s often said that “popular doesn’t mean good,” that doesn’t mean popular things are automatically bad either. With Delicious in Dungeon and Frieren: Beyond Journey’s End alike, you have titles that show how you don’t have to appeal to the lowest common denominator to garner love on a wider scale. 

But more important than all that stuff is this: If they met, Laios and Frieren would probably end up being incredible friends for each other. Their sense of wonder at amazement at things others overlook would probably get them talking for hours to each other. The two represent not just styles of fantasy fiction that aren’t as game/isekai-coded, but also approaches to heroes who don’t prioritize power or progress.

And as for Bravern, well, he’d probably be good chums with them too, don’t you think?

Blogger17: The (Belated) Ogiue Maniax 17th Anniversary

I completely forgot that November is the anniversary month of this blog. I guess I was bound to do this eventually after 17 years, though the tumultuous nature of both November and December (let alone the entirety of 2024) made it even less of a surprise.

From what anime has told me, this is the eternal year. Once you reach this milestone, you’re 17 forever (or you enter “17, Season 2,” as per one Houshou Marine). So here we are, where Ogiue Maniax isn’t quite able to vote, but it’s still insisting that it’s practically an adult. 

I’m making all the jokes that we’ve seen from anime and otaku culture, but when I look back on how far I’ve come writing here, there’s gotta be one thing above all else that marks how far I’ve come: I got to interview Inoue Kikuko, the mother of the Eternal 17 movement. How wild is that?!

But as long as I’ve gone, I still find the identity of Ogiue Maniax to be perpetually in flux. A big part is that every year I find myself with new ideas, new responsibilities, and the awareness that my perspective simply has to be different from when I started. That’s not to say that I consider myself a traitor to the values and inspirations that prompted me to start an anime blog in the first place, but I inevitably have to approach it with a different energy.

In a way, continuing to write about anime in this fashion is a sort of Eternal 17 attitude in itself. At the same time, who the hell blogs anymore? It’s the domain of weirdos like me who have stubbornly refused to switch mediums (this is not a bad thing). Yet, given where media as a whole has come and gone, I wonder if younger people will rediscover the unique joys of writing as a way to escape some of the things they enjoy less. 

Blogging’s fun, everyone!  

Critical Role, the Weave Mind, and a Most Satisfying Confrontation

A drawing of five slender, alien beings floating while in flowing robes and armor. They are branded as being part of Critical Role and a Tyler Walpole Creation

WARNING: SPOILERS FOR CRITICAL ROLE CAMPAIGN 3

A couple years ago, I started watching the popular Dungeon & Dragons roleplaying stream Critical Role, following the adventures of the ragtag band known as Bell’s Hells from the very beginning. A number of my friends are long-time fans of Critical Role, particularly Campaign 2, “The Mighty Nein,” and I decided that this third campaign was a good time to jump in. 

I’ve had my ups and downs with Campaign 3, as 1) I felt it couldn’t always keep my attention, especially when each season was 3–5 hours long, and 2) it drew a lot from previous campaigns that made it hard to follow. Nevertheless, I stuck with it. Then came a turning point that I think helped finally get me more invested: the group’s trip to the red moon, Ruidus. Not only was it revealed that this moon is inhabited by all manner of heretofore unknown species, but that they lived under the tyranny of the Weave Mind, five ancient psychics who have combined their powers to rule as one. And if there’s anything I love in fiction, it’s villainous hive mind masters whose very combined nature is both their greatest strength and their Achilles’ heel.

The Overmind? Hell yeah. Mother Brain? Always love fighting her. Virtually every shmup final boss? Give me more. Ougi Ichirou from Kekkaishi? The reveal that he’s actually six brothers grotesquely fused together is one of my favorite moments in that manga.

A couple weeks ago, Critical Role finally had the players enter into direct battle with the Weave Mind. However, while Bell’s Hells are the main heroes, they were not the ones to confront the masters of Ruidus. The story had led to the player groups from each of the three campaigns tackling separate vital missions, and this was the Mighty Nein’s. The result: It was amazing, and probably my favorite episode of Campaign 3, tied maybe only with the pyrrhic victory against Otohan.

Now, I’ve seen some of the arguments online as to why the Weave Mind fight was disappointing for some people. “The Mighty Nein have no narrative connection to them.” “They were only ever talked about as this great evil, and never had the chance to really show it.” But as valid and reasonable as those opinions are, I can’t resist an awesome battle against a hive mind boss, particularly when it involves special mechanics, and those mechanics are key to unraveling the seeming invincibility of the enemy. I’ll eat that stuff up all day long.

The Weave Mind was revealed to have a number of features tied to their unique composition and the site of battle, their Pentathrone Chamber. A psychic shroud of some kind made them difficult to target. Damage to any one of them would be divided evenly between all five, blunting the damage. They could attack in unorthodox ways, like eliminating player spell slots and forcing exhaustion. Three could work together to create a triangular area-of-effect attack. They also had special shields that granted them more HP, which were also restored at the top of every turn. 

But as the Mighty Nein fought them, the players gradually learned how to tear down the interconnected layers of defense. Smashing the crystalline structures in particular helped to blunt their ability to regenerate their shields, and when Veth (played by Sam Riegel) landed a sneak attack on one of the Weave Mind, the foe happened to be in a position that prevented them from sharing damage with the others, and that became the turning point of the battle. The implied shock at having their weakness exposed was personally extremely satisfying

Shortly after, Yasha (Ashley Johnson) landed a blow so strong that even the damage distribution couldn’t save the wounded member from being slain, and the lattice work of defenses actually led to the Weave Mind’s undoing. With one less ally to take the pain, it became harder for them to weather hits, and when some clever teamwork by Beau (Marisha Ray) and Caleb (Liam O’Brien) left one of them stunned and unable to resist a Disintegration spell, killing one actually led to the demise of the collective. The DM, Matt Mercer, described the dying Weave Mind as ironically being defeated by the very fusion of selves that granted them such extraordinary abilities, and that their final moments showed how pathetic they and their petty ambitions really were despite their immense power.

Amazing. 10/10.

I think what made all this especially appealing to me was that Matt Mercer had specifically set this all up as a unique combat challenge for the players. Like a good pro wrestling match, the technical aspect helped to fuel the story of the fight, but this battle had an added factor: None of this was predetermined. The whole setup reminds me of one of the big dividing lines in battle-oriented anime and manga: whether a series focuses on brain battles or heart battles. This definitely leans more into the former with the previous fight by Campaign 1’s Vox Machina more the latter. Making a brain battle emotionally satisfying isn’t always easy, but I think the team pulled it off.

I don’t think every battle in an RPG should be against hive minds (it’d probably get old), but pulling one out and making it this exciting is exactly the kind of thing that makes me want to memorialize it on this blog. Kudos to the Critical Role team.

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.