It can sometimes be a struggle to explain why Chainsaw Man is so good, even to those who have become fans of it through the anime. It’s as if they’re eating a peanut butter cup and going, “Wow, this chocolate is good!”
But recent chapters of the manga have shown just how much Denji’s journey has changed him when we see Denji talk about Power, as well as his interactions with the character Nayuta.
MANGA SPOILER WARNING
Part 2 of Chainsaw Man has been fun, especially between having a new perspective character in Asa and the way Denji keeps trying to “accidentally” reveal that he’s Chainsaw Man. The guy is still pretty shallow and dim, but then he starts talking to Asa about a “good friend” he knew, and his words carry a tone both mournful and joyful. Over time, his bond with Power became genuine and full of caring, and the weight that comes with his current maturity can be felt.
Then, when you see him interact with Nayuta (the new Control Devil after Makima), that feeling only multiplies. Denji in Part 1 thinks mostly about himself—a product of his upbringing as an orphan surviving on scraps—but here, he has responsibilities as Nayuta’s guardian. From the little bits we can see of their relationship, he knows full well how dangerous the Control Devil can be, but behaves like a mix of dad and big brother in order to get Nayuta to listen. Hearing “I’ll only revert my transformation of this girl’s psyche into a dog’s if you let me eat ice cream every day” and replying with “Fine, but only if I get to eat some too” sums up how Denji negotiates with her. He’s no paragon of virtue, but he tries to make sure Nayuta does the right thing by treating her practically as a peer.
Given all of Denji’s trauma before and during the events of the manga, I see his attitude towards Nayuta to be a desire to not repeat the same heartbreaking mistakes, especially for Nayuta’s sake. Flawed as Denji is, including morally, he doesn’t want her to feel the pain of loneliness on the scale that he, and even Makima, knew all too well. Denji’s doing his best to set a good example, and seeing the odd contours of that attempt speaks to a profound personal growth.
The 3D debut of La+ Darknesss forever changed her image as a Virtual Youtuber. This Hololive member initially presented herself as a brattychuunibyou with legit singing and rapping skills, but seeing her with a full range of motion revealed that La+ is actually one of Hololive‘s best dancers. Since then, she’s had a handful of performances in her own streams and as a guest in others, and they’re consistently top-notch. Numerous clips and comments in multiple languages make note about how her routines just look different from most everyone else’s, with one Japanese viewer summing it up well: While many others (like Subaru and Matsuri) are great at idol dancing, La+ comes across as a great dancer.
Indeed, La+’s dancing has made such an impact on me that I’ve previously discussed her talent in two separate posts. And now here’s a third one.
Writing another essay might seem superfluous; I’d actually thought as such myself. I’m also such an absolute dance novice that I’m completely unqualified to comment on La+’s with any authority. But as I’ve waited for more expert analysis of her skills, none have really appeared—even reaction videos are exceedingly rare. So, I’ve found myself watching her concerts over and over, trying to figure out why her abilities shine through even to someone as ignorant of the art as myself.
Thus, I present my attempt to explain what I literally don’t have the proper vocabulary or understanding for, in the hopes that someone better than me can do a more proper job of it.
Crisp, Full-Body Expression
I think the first dance that really caught my attention was from La+’s 3D debut stream: her performance of her first original song, “Aien Jihen.” She actually came up with the choreography herself, and it is likely her most difficult dance to date—La+ even prefaced by saying she was only dancing to her pre-recorded vocal track.
The introduction starts off, and she strikes poses if every part of her is in perfect sync with the rest. Then the blow horns sound off, and La+ goes into the first verse with the most confident arm movements I’ve ever seen from a VTuber. As she pumps her body, there’s a combination of elegance and forcefulness (along with some solid camera work) that just leaves a lasting impression—and that’s before La+ gets into the more difficult parts of her choreo! She looks as if she’s able to carry movements all the way from beginning to end with a level of precision that makes everything feel both important and impactful.
That crispness can be seen across literally everything she does. Case in point, one place where it really stands out to me is in her duet cover of Ayase’s “Cynical Night Plan” with Amane Kanata, from her first-anniversary concert. At times, La+ performs more complicated moves than Kanata, but there are moments when they’re doing the same steps, and she just seems to have something extra. In the above clip, the duo spread their arms in and flick upwards in steps of three; while Kanata seems to move wrist-first, La+ looks as if she’s moving from the shoulders and elbows, creating a sharp ratcheting that matches the song well. I find my eyes being drawn to her as a result.
Control and Stability
The 3D debuts of every member of holoX culminated with a group stream in which they performed a cover of the song “Roki” by MikitoP. This is actually the moment that multiple VTuber clippers drew attention to La+’s dancing, and for good reason: she somehow manages to steal the spotlight without diminishing her genmates. There are just multiple moments where she dips or moves like an undulating wave, and it highlights just how much more control and stability she seems to have over her body—especially her core—compared to the rest of holoX and by extension nearly all of Hololive.
Her first-anniversary stream is also full of moments that demonstrate her incredible smoothness, but where that talent really comes to the fore is in “Dark Breath”: her second original song, and one that clearly draws inspiration from K-Pop in the vein of Blackpink. Not only does she demonstrate the aforementioned crisp movement when she turns in place like the hands of a clock, but the way she leans back as if about to fall over—only to then snake right back up—seems to speak to an impressive amount of training.
Idols and Dancing
With the impressive expressiveness and control of La+ on display, I’d like to return to that previously mentioned distinction between “idol dancing” and “dance dancing.” To that end, it’s important to describe what idol-style dance is in the first place with a brief and highly generalized history lesson.
Japanese idol culture emerged in the 1980s with singers such as Matsuda Seiko being presented as platonic ideals of what girls could be—this is the foundation of the seiso (pure and clean) idol concept that is the butt of so many jokes.
As dancing has become a bigger part of idol culture—such as with the famous AKB48—performances follow a similar trend, being less about making you go “wow” and more about making you go “aww” or “ooh.” In anime terms, this is the progression from Macrossand Creamy Mamito Love Live!
Idol dance is the angle most Hololive members take, and it allows for those with and without dance experience to look fairly good and to utilize their strengths. For example, Inugami Korone is known as one of the most physically fit members of Hololive. She doesn’t have the cleanest moves, but she makes up for it with sheer athleticism and stamina, famously pulling off a front walkover flip while also nursing a broken finger. In turn, Oozora Subaru may not be as athletic as Korone, but she brings a similar amount of boundless energy, a kind of joyful expressiveness that’s really endearing, and visible improvements over time that play into the narrative of watching idols as “works in progress.”
Two members who actually have significant backgrounds in idol performances are Natsuiro Matsuri and Takahashi Kiara (Hololive Myth’s best dancer), and it shows in how stable they look while in motion.
In the above clip, Matsuri’s “Hare Hare Yukai” dance from Suzumiya Haruhi stands in sharp contrast to Houshou Marine’s memorized but somewhat uncoordinated motions. Below, Kiara’s performance during her original song “Hinotori” straddles the line of idol dancing with a choreography that feels more daring, but she still has a certain staticness that is expected of idol fare, despite showing off a great deal of balance and flexibility.
In comparison, it’s clear that La+ doesn’t follow the same template as most others. Certainly, she’s not alone in that regard, with Kiara diversifying her style further with her later songs, and Moona Hoshinova giving a more diva-like performance for her original song “High Tide.” But I think what La+ seems to have an astounding level of consistency, which leads me to the third reason I think she’s such a mesmerizing dancer.
Versatility
On the subject of idol dance, there is something important to note: Just because it’s not La+’s typical style doesn’t mean she’s bad at it. In fact, she’s one of the best:
This clip is taken from the most-rewatched moment in her first-year anniversary concert: her idol outfit reveal, which leads into “Daishikyuu Daisuki,” a poppy and bubbly tune by the Japanese group Femme Fatale. It’s by far the most idol-esque number La+ has ever done, and she manages to bring her crispness and control to the performance in a way that elevates the whole thing. From how she twists and bends to the subtle positioning of her legs, she looks as impressive here as her other dances. For comparison, below is a video showing other Hololive members covering the same song. The difference is noticeable.
La+ is amazingly versatile, and nowhere is that more apparent than the fact that the very same first-anniversary concert also features La+ with Aki Rosenthal, who is indisputably one of Hololive’s best dancers. With a partner who is similarly skilled, La+ is able to pull off something that looks closer to a Broadway number or a dance recital at a major concert hall. The song, “One Room All That Jazz,” also has a completely different feel from everything else she’s done (quiet and jazzy, naturally). The number consists of nonstop highlights, but I think what really shows her (and Aki’s) power is the level of elegance displayed during the instrumental section that then transitions into a wildly contrasting tap dance. Aside from possibly Kiara and Moona, as well as potentially certain members who have yet to receive their 3D models, I’m doubtful there are many who could manage this so effectively.
Dark Lord of the Dance
When La+ Darknesss dances, she displays artistry and a plethora of skills that I think put her near, if not at the top of the list of best dancers in Hololive and Virtual Youtubers as a whole. She actually outdoes Miku Miku Dance models from the best 3D animators when it’s far more common for the opposite to be true.
La+ has the crisp, full-body expression that makes every movement feel razor-sharp. She has such stability and control that her moves seem somehow effortful and effortless at the same time. She has the versatility to apply her talents to different songs and genres of dance, and make all of them look good. It’s as if she combines the strengths of the most notable performers in Hololive, with the possible exception of Korone-level endurance and athletic prowess (though she might merely be lacking relative to the intensity of her choreographies). And all this isn’t even factoring her strong singing ability—something that makes her concerts that much more powerful. Truly, she’s my favorite dancer in Hololive and there is no close second.
Which is all to say, if you haven’t watched La+’s 3D concerts, you should really check them out.
I’ve long wondered what it would look like for a platform fighter to be the Smash Bros. of indie gaming.
Over a span of two decades, the Smash franchise has gone from a large intra-Nintendo crossover to a celebration of gaming as a whole. But as diverse as its roster has become, indie games have only barely begun to have a presence in Smash—and only really with titles that have been wildly influential, like Minecraft and Undertale.
Fraymakers is not the first to step up to the plate, but it’s definitely gotten the furthest. Itpromises a diverse roster that emphasizes not just the big titles that acknowledge how messy gaming history can be, and that it’s not all about the major names—at least not in the way one might normally think about.
I first heard about Fraymakers through its Kickstarter, and there are three reasons I ultimately decided to back the project. First, as mentioned, it’s something I’ve wanted to see for many years. Second, it’s being developed by McLeod Gaming, the folks behind Super Smash Flash, a fan-made Smash clone that has its fair share of supporters (though admittedly I’ve never played it). Third, one of the Assists in the game is the Newgrounds tank.
It’s that last point that I think really encapsulates the Fraymakers mindset: Newgrounds—which was built on interactive Flash games before the format became obsolete—was not always home to especially great games. However, they were a source of entertainment for many people. The imperfections of these amateur works made them all the more charming. Now it’s out on Steam early access with a handful of playable characters, and here I am trying out out.
I’ve said a lot about wanting to see an indie Smash, but truth be told, I’ve never played many indie games—no, not even the one you’re probably thinking of. But that’s also precisely why I love the concept. It reminds me of the first time I played a Super Robot Wars game; I barely knew certain robots, but discovering and learning more about them is part of the fun. I recognize Octodad and Orcane from Rivals of Aether, but do I know who CommanderVideo is? Nope. Now I’m curious, though, and I can sense the love and care in how they try to capture the essence of each character, each of whom feels noticeably different.
Of course, all the fun references in the world can only take a game so far, and it’s ultimately gameplay that’s king. In this regard, Fraymakers feels at home for anyone with a passing familiarity to Smash, leaning towards the famously long-lived and highly competitive Super Smash Bros. Melee, but with some quality-of-life improvements seen in other games. For example, wavedashing does exist in Fraymakers, but also controls can be customized to fit individual preference, much like in later Smash games. There are even control options, like “d-pad movement” and “double tap to dash,” meant to help people who might have issues with analog sticks. Overall, the game doesn’t stray terribly far from its inspiration in terms of mechanics, but there are a few changes such as replacing the air dodge with an air dash meant primarily for extending combos instead of as a defensive option.
One thing definitely in Fraymaker’s favor (say that three times fast) is that the act of fighting itself feels satisfying. Characters have a sense of weight and gravity, hits have impact, and the controls never feel mushy—issues I’ve had with some other platform fighters like Brawloutand even Multiversus. The only time I did have issues was when I was using a controller that was less than ideal; once I switched to something better, everything pretty much clicked.
In terms of tournament viability, I did go online to see what that’s like, and proceeded to get mauled by people who had a better idea of what they were doing. There is definitely combo potential and all that jazz, I can tell that much. While you can’t force a competitive scene to happen, the fact that Fraymakers feels inherently good to play probably bodes well for it.
Ultimately, I’m mostly eager to see more and more characters with relatively unique play styles. The current four demo characters have varying levels of unorthodox elements, with Octodad surprisingly being the most standard despite the purposeful awkwardness of his source game. There are already more characters announced, and I look forward to trying out all these cool faces I only know from watching other people stream.
The end of last month hit with some tough news as the world learned that Matsumoto Leiji had passed away at the age of 85. I’m still thinking about what an end of an era that is, and I’ve been spending time with his works. In addition to finally watching more Space Battleship Yamato 2202, I decided to revisit my favorite anime of all time, 1979’s Galaxy Express 999. It’s as gorgeous as the day I first saw it.
This month’s Kio Shimoku tweets are a real treat, as he’s been posting a bunch of old Genshiken art without any text, including at least one piece that’s never been released widely see above)! Genshiken was also trending on Japanese Twitter thanks to being spotlighted on a TV show!
On Duck King’s birthday, Kio mentions that he used to play Duck King. He could do Duck King’s command throws from jumping or out of a block, but never from standing.
In response to a Kim Kaphwan player, Kio refers to Kim as a “demon.” Another commenter replies with “Obenjo Baby!” (Toilet Baby)—a mishearing of one of Kim’s attacks. Kio jokingly says he never could figure out what Kim was saying, so he’ll accept this interpretation
Kio bought a Playstation 5 and Elden Ring despite a lack of free time. He also wants to try SEKIRO.
A long-time fan asks him to please not die without releasing any new works because he was playing nothing but Elden Ring. Kio says he’ll be careful. (Others in the thread do not mind encouraging him to play more.)
Kio accidentally misplaced some parts for a model kit. Manga artist Ikuhana Niiro and Kio talk about how this sort of thing makes them grateful for the quality of Gundam kits.
Kio showing the parts he’s built. When asked if this is a garage kit, he says that it’s technically an action figure kit Kaiyodo used to sell, but it’s functionally a garage kit.
Kio built one of the kits from the box in this older tweet: Knight of Gold from The Five Star Stories. It turns out one of the parts that went missing earlier is actually for this.
Kio learns that Genshiken is going to be on the TV show Sukkiri the next week, on the segment “Hot Comic.” He’s excited about this, and naturally receives a bunch of congratulations from fans (too many to list in this post).
I will make an exception for this one person who says they love Ogiue and Sue. Kio responds “OgiSue! ……Or Sue/Ogi?”
Kio has been so busy with Spotted Flower and other things since the end of last year that he hasn’t had time to work on his ero manga project. Even though it’s the same amount of work that he had when doing a monthly series, it somehow feels unsustainable these days.
Kio posts this old drawing of Madarame and Jin, to which someone responds that they wish they could see both Genshiken and Hashikko Ensemble continue. Kio thanks them, and says he’ll continue to work hard on Spotted Flower.
Another older drawing, but this time someone shows Kio that they have the hot-spring bathing Ohno bust that came free with an issue of Monthly Afternoon. Kio calls it a fine product.
An Ohno fan says they loved Ohno so much, they ended up with a girl like her, and that Kio is responsible for this “severe” crime. Kio jokingly says that’s unforgivable.
A fan mentions that he used to be embarrassed to say the word eroge before Genshiken. Kio replies that they actually checked if there was any issue using it for the anime, and the response was “none at all.”
Kio finished watching Sukkiri. He jokingly equates hearing all the old lines he wrote 20 years ago to humiliation fetish play, and says he’s happy to see it regarded as a story not merely about otaku but about human beings.
Kio feels the depiction of otaku in media has changed since then.
Director Mizuhima Tsutomu (Girls und Panzer, Shirobako) mentions working as staff on the first Genshiken anime and the Kujibiki Unbalance stuff in there. He also worked on the Kujibiki Unbalance light novel as part of the group called “Yokote Michiko and Her Pleasant Companions.” (Yokote Michiko is a writer who’s worked on Genshiken.)
Singer Atsumi Saori talks about how if it weren’t for Genshiken, she wouldn’t have wrote the ending theme for it, “Biidama.” She’s grateful to the series for that reason.
Kio thanks her back, and talks about how he likes the fact that the song contains both happiness and sadness.
Manga creator Shikizawa Kaya describes Genshiken as if actual real people were chiseled and dug out for it. Spotted Flower uses an even sharper chisel, and results in something very thrilling. Kio responds with gratitude.
A fan didn’t realize that the name Genshiken Nidaime is in part a reference to the second club president. I.e. Madarame. Kio responds that this was one thing he considered when naming the series.
A Japanese model, Ikeda Miyuki (aka Michopa-san) said something along the lines of it being weird to experience works from an era before the concept of otaku had proliferated in the culture. Kio agrees.
Kio thanks the host of “Hot Comic” on Sukkiri, actor Okayama Amane, as well as the staff for talking about Genshiken.
He then promotes Spotted Flower by calling it “What-if after-story, or maybe a spin-off, or maybe a parallel world—even the author isn’t sure.” He then shows the above drawing of Not-Sue and Not-Ogi and says “Characters like these show up.”
The cover of Genshiken Volume 8. Also, it turns out that my Twitter mutual and fellow Ogiue fan Noori actually went to the spot referenced in the cover! Kio thinks that’s probably the place?
Kio responds with a “Nice!” to someone telling him that they grew up wanting a senpai like Madarame, and eventually found one after they started working.
Ritsuko from Kujibiki Unbalance in a school swimsuit, from the back cover of Genshiken Volume 2. When shown a sealed figure of the same character, Kio points out that the figure in question is based on an illustration by Yagumo Kengou (who illustrated the light novels, and was later in charge of the designs for the anime).
A commenter mentions to Kio that the Midnight Blissed version of Hydron (Nool) from Capcom Fighting Evolution is clearly based on Ritsuko from Kujibiki Unbalance, and not only does Kio know that, but the artist who made those drawings has also made a Ritsuko doujinshi.
Title image from Genshiken Chapter 9. Kio notices that the colors seem different on Twitter compared to how they actually are, and one commenter replies that it might be because they need to be converted from CMYK to RGB for viewing on screens. Kio realizes this is the case and proceeds to repost many of the earlier illustrations.
Kio bought a plastic model of Super Sasadango Machine, a wrestler from the comedy wrestling company DDT. He’s a parody of Super Strong Machine from New Japan Pro-Wrestling.
Kio explaining about how the first anime had a special addition with the Kujibiki Unbalance OVAs, and this is what led to Director Mizushima helming the TV series.
The cover art of Genshiken Volume 3. Kio also replies to a commenter talking about how he thinks the quality of the old Genshiken trading figures is really high for how small they are.
The news of Matsumoto Leiji’s death shocked me. While the passing of an 85-year-old shouldn’t be too surprising, it still makes me contemplate so many things. The number of creators who can trace their careers back to those early decades of the postwar manga industry is now vanishingly few. Matsumoto’s influence was monumental, with great works like Galaxy Express 999, Captain Harlock, and Space Battleship Yamatoall under his belt. He was also instrumental in so much of what we now call the anime fandom, as his work on Space Battleship Yamato was the catalyst for fandoms in Japan, the United States, and elsewhere.
More than his broader artistic and historical significance, though, I feel Matsumoto’s legacy supporting me, as I might not have gone down my particular path of anime and manga fandom if I had never discovered his works. His messages of humanity and compassion sparked my curiosity, and helped me to look both forward and backwards.
The 1979 Galaxy Express 999 film is, bar none, my favorite anime ever. I reviewed it in the early days of Ogiue Maniax, but as I explained there, my history with it goes back further. I first watched it as part of a local film festival, at a time when my exposure to much older works was more limited. I can’t recall when exactly I saw it relative to other 70s anime, but I still remember to this day the sense of awe I felt coming out of the theater. Maetel remains one of my top 3 favorite female anime characters of all time, a figure whose presence in the story speaks to the beauty and soul of Galaxy Express 999. Nothing has toppled it in my heart even decades later.
After seeing the film, I naturally began to notice more Matsumoto Leiji material, and since then, the worlds of his creations have been part of my world too. I bought a single volume of the Galaxy Express 999 manga in English in high school, and I would read it over and over. I would repeatedly consult Frederik Schodt’s Manga! Manga!, which included not only a biography of him but also a sample of one of his more obscure manga. Among my first figure purchases was a large Maetel, and I remember my excitement over finding the Queen Emeraldas OVAs and discovering Daft Punk through Interstella 5555.
I’ve reviewed Danguard Ato celebrate the 50th anniversary of anime on television, sent Harlock to show “the pirate’s way” in Super Robot Wars T, and made lasting bonds thanks to The Galaxy Railways. I’ve also purchased that 1979 Galaxy Express 999 film over and over, whether it was happening upon a used Region 2 DVD at a Bookoff, getting the US DVD to show my support, or upgrading to the blu-ray so I could experience it in better quality than I ever thought possible. Actually, in that regard, the film festival I attended all those years ago showed a VHS version, so it really is like night and day.
An old drawing I made of Ogiue cosplaying as Maetel
In the long run, I think I would have still come to take a broader view of anime and manga. But as I currently am, Matsumoto Leiji’s art contributes no small part to the enthusiast I am today. As he leaves us, I wish his messages about the importance of remembering and cherishing our humanity continue to resonate in the years to come.
The Galaxy Express 999 will take you on a journey, a never-ending journey. A journey to the stars!
Yurei Deco is a science fiction anime that takes the idea of social media influence to the extreme. It depicts a world where obsession with “likes” (or rather, “loves”) is so strong that society is built around their importance. This is a series that speaks directly to me, as I’ve long been bothered by the dominance of “likes” as a vital part of social media interaction.
Twitter is currently going through its largest debacle ever as Elon Musk arrogantly makes every wrong decision imaginable. For me, however, there was a different turning point that permanently soured my experience with the platform: the day that Twitter decided to change their stars into hearts. Suddenly, it didn’t mean you were marking something as interesting and worth looking at, but instead that you tacitly approved of it. What little nuance was there has gotten pulverized, and things have never been the same. Yurei Deco takes this problem and portrays a society that is basically a dystopia of social media where socioeconomic status and opportunity are tied to the number of “loves” one accrues.
One of the things I like about Yurei Deco is how it utilizes its main character, a girl named Berry. At the start of the series, she’s generally accepting of the conventions around her: Berry’s favorite word is “love-y,” which she uses as a positive adjective—it basically means “this is great because it would get a lot of loves.” However, she’s also fairly curious, and her hobby is learning about Phantom Zero, a mysterious figure/phenomenon who appears to steal people’s “loves.” In this way, Berry is indeed a product of her society but also in a position to start subtly defying it. This combination (along with a broken eye implant) inadvertently allows Berry to begin seeing past the augmented reality that is the norm, and into the cracks that have formed as a result of this tacit acceptance. She’s drawn into a world of hackers and other eccentrics who play at the fringes, resulting in a story that’s equal parts mystery and commentary.
In other words, while Berry is eventually surrounded by outsiders, she herself has one foot in each door. Even as she learns more and more truths, she still uses “love-y,” giving her a realistic sense of growth and change. She makes major strides, but she’s not about to change her vocabulary overnight. In this way, Yurei Deco gives me vibes reminiscent of both Dennou Coil (for the integrated cyberspace elements in everyday life) and Deca-Dence (for the measured solutions that arise from the realities of the world and system portrayed.
The bright and colorful visuals are courtesy of Yuasa Maaaki’s Science Saru studio, and Yurei Deco does a great job of making it feel both inviting and eerily creepy. The idea of a society built around likes on social media is bone-chilling in its own way, and the neon/pastel facade that everything possesses hammers that point home. But while critical of social media, Yurei Deco does not try to argue that it should just be excised from its world, as if to say “this stuff isn’t going anywhere, so we need to figure out a solution that results in outcomes good for society instead of ones that prioritize personal fame.”
I’ve been a Pokémon fan since before the very first game launched in the US, and I have to say that playing Pokémon Violet is some of the most fun I’ve ever had with the franchise. Yes, I know about the glitches and lack of polish. I got stuck in a black void inside my own house right at the start of the game, and I’ve taken note of the wonky physics. But even though I’ve finished the main game, I still keep jumping in.
Similar to Pokémon Legends: Arceus, Pokémon Scarlet and Violet are open-world games, meaning that they emphasize freely exploring the environment without forcing you into a certain order of doing things. This is both a plus and minus, personally: I have felt that newer Pokémon games are a little too on-rails, and this is a way to break with that trend, but I’m rather directionally challenged both in real life and in games. Luckily, they’ve added things that make the world feel pretty navigable even for someone like me. One key concept shared with Legends: Arceus is to have a ridable Pokémon that replaces the idea of key TMs or HMs to traverse unusual terrain—a definitely welcome change.
The new region, Paldea, is based on Spain. Here, you enter a Pokémon school that places heavy emphasis on both searching for and pursuing your dreams. To that end, there are three separate but overlapping storylines that each emphasize somewhat different views of what it means to thrive in the world: Victory Road, Path of Legends, and Starfall Street. Their stories progress in compelling ways, involve meeting great new characters, and even act somewhat as tutorials to help you develop certain skills.
Victory Road feels the most refined, being the most tried-and-true part of Pokemon singleplayer. It’s the familiar acquiring of gym badges in order to fight against the Elite Four and become a champion, but it also manifests in cultural aspects of Paldea that result in a unique experience. Whereas Gym Leaders in other games dedicate their lives to running their gyms, it’s more of a side job here. Paldean Gym Leaders include a baker, a streamer, an office worker, a rapper, a sushi chef, and so on. Gym battles take place outdoors—perhaps as a way to not have to model interiors, but it nevertheless adds to the feel that Paldea isn’t like other regions.
Adding to this is maybe the most fun rival to ever appear in Pokémon. Nemona is a fellow student, but she’s already a Champion-rank trainer by the time you meet her. Rather than growing alongside you, she guides you to become stronger, all because she loves Pokémon battles so much that she’ll seize any opportunity to have a great match. Players online have compared her to Goku from Dragon Ball, and it’s quite apt.
The storylines in Path of Legends (where you pursue titanic Pokemon) and Starfall Street (where you fight against school delinquents who comprise the latest nefarious organization, Team Star) have really engaging plots full of interesting developments. I found my view of certain characters evolve over time, and they provide both some of the most heartfelt moments and some of the funniest gags I’ve ever experienced in Pokémon. One downside is that I think the gameplay elements they each emphasize could have been done in somewhat more exciting ways. The Titan Pokémon could feel more titanic, and there really isn’t much to the battle system used for taking down Team Star. They’re more good than bad, though.
Playing through all three paths is very rewarding, not only because it opens up new branches and brings the overall plot together, but also because they collectively convey the richness of Paldea. The region seems to move at a characteristic pace (at its Own Tempo, one could say) that is about loving life and enjoying good food, while the blossoming of aspirations, the learning of mythology, and the reassessment of assumptions create a feeling that this is a robust world with lots of history and personality.
As for the Pokémon themselves, appealing to those who prefer a more classic look and those looking for more bizarre designs. Nothing is as off-the-wall as the Ultra Beasts of Pokemon Sun and Moon, but they expand the series’s universe in interesting ways. One quirky thing is the abundance of Pokémon based on food, whether it’s Fidough the dog bread dog, Garganacl the living salt golem, or Scovillain the two-headed pepper plant, culinary creatures are a norm. The game also has a feature where you can make sandwiches and visit restaurants that confer certain bonuses, driving home the idea that Paldea is a land of gourmets—an idea heavily promoted by Spain’s own tourism industry, incidentally.
Compared to Pokémon Legends: Arceus, one thing that’s missing is the greater sense of experimentation with the gameplay mechanics. That game really turned key aspects on their heads, and it was refreshing in a way. I do understand keeping the game more turn-based and rooted in established elements like the implementation of speed and status effects and even agree that this was the right choice for a main Pokémon title. That said, I can see it being a little tedious for those who want something more different.
Pokémon Scarlet and Violet certainly have flaws, but there’s an undeniable charisma that makes me want to keep playing. Witnessing the myriad stories unfold is fun. Venturing out into the world is fun. Finding and learning about Pokémon is fun. Meeting new characters and discovering what makes them tick is fun. And growing alongside everyone is fun. I don’t know how long I’ll stick around, but I’ll consider it time well spent.
It’s been many years since the late-2000s peak of the tsundere archetype, when the girls with prickly personalities all but captivated anime and its fandom. I was no exception to this—while I don’t consider myself a huge tsundere enthusiast, many such characters are included among my favorites. But as their novelty has aged into a well-worn trope, I’ve found myself almost forgetting how potent they can be in terms of the emotional force they exert upon fans. What‘s more, the reminder I needed was to realize how much has changed in my own life.
In certain ways, I’m not who I was 15 years ago. Mentally and emotionally, I’m in a different place, no longer constantly doubting whether my social awkwardness would ever keep me from connecting to others. However, I can recall what that felt like, and the crushing fear that it might never be overcome. And I can also recall the amazement and comfort I felt seeing characters who had similar struggles. This is essentially what led me to becoming so fond of Ogiue Chika from Genshiken and naming this blog after her. Her fight with herself felt so very real, even if it wasn’t exactly what I was going through.
It’s arguable whether Ogiue is a tsundere, but one can think of tsundere as characters who face a similar conflict between what they feel inside and how they wish to express themselves, but also boiled down to a powerful essence. There is a difference between the old-school and new-school tsundere (a distinction that’s quite long in the tooth these days), but either way, it is an easily digestible personal trait that can be eminently relatable. To see a tsundere lash out is to see a character fight within in a clear and distinct fashion.
You might hear someone say “I wish I had a tsundere partner,” and they could mean that they want someone straight out of anime—a crystalization of a fetish. But they might instead mean “I want someone who understands me because they face similar challenges.” It’s in the ability to occupy both spaces that the tsundere is strongest.
I originally did not intend to bring up Ogiue, but the more I thought about it, the more it made sense. Not only does she skirt the kind of tsundere, but she’s also been portrayed as growing out of the inner turmoil she carried when she was first introduced. She is no longer the same person, and it’s reflected in her personality and even her visual design, but I still love the heck out of her character. Even though the severity of anger and awkwardness she carries has waned, the struggle was undeniably there, and its marks are noticeable. The tsundere is powerful because of how succinctly they capture a variety of heavy feelings in a digestible fashion, and it would behoove me to keep that in mind.
As someone who loves to eat (and seeing characters who love to eat), it was all but inevitable that I would enjoy Delicious Party Precure. But my appreciation goes beyond nailing its general food motif, as the series also successfully balances a number of different elements to make a fun and thrilling show. Whether it’s revisiting established tropes of the Precure franchise, reviving old ideas from magical girl anime of years past, or taking steps towards inclusivity, Delicious Party Precure is a pleasure to watch.
Strong Theming and Characters
Sometimes, Precure series don’t fully commit to theming, which makes for incongruous mishmashes of various marketable elements. This issue largely does not apply to Delicious Party Precure. Its characters, from main heroines to supporting cast, are all about enjoying and cherishing food. Its story is about magical girls fighting food thieves who are literally trying to steal tastiness in the form of food spirits. Every episode watched while hungry is basically torture, as it makes every dish look like the best thing ever. The adorable mascots are food fairies from the CooKingdom, each of whom are based on a particular carb—there’s nothing quite like a chubby little ramen dragon who shouts, “Wontooon!” during transformation sequences.
That said, the series has a sub-theme if wearing makeup that’s carried over from Tropical-Rouge Precure, but it kind of falls flat here. There’s one aspect of Delicious Party that makes it work to some extent (more on that below), but even the show itself emphasizes it less and less over time.
Characterization here isn’t as deep or profound as Heartcatch Precure!or Hugtto! Precure, but it’s still quite good and never drags the show down. The basic idea of them all having different loving relationships with food is simple, yet robust. Their different relationships with food create opportunities for joyful expression, human connection, and personal growth. One missed opportunity is that it doesn’t embrace the international food theme with a more ethnically diverse cast—despite the heroines Cure Precious, Cute Spicy, and Cure Yum Yum representing Japanese, European, and Chinese food respectively, all three are Japanese.
A Balanced Diet of Old and New
Delicious Party features a few tropes that would be familiar to fans of Precure and its genre progenitors, i.e. magical girls and sentai tokusatsu. There’s an eventual “sixth ranger” (in this case “fourth”). The series also revives the “Tuxedo Mask” along with an extra dash of romance—a relative rarity in Precure. But Delicious Party also pulls them off, integrating them into the overall story without ignoring their histories, making them useless, or having them hog the spotlight. These are known recipes, so to speak, given enough customization to taste pleasantly different.
Another part of the successful balancing act of Delicious Party is that it embraces both its kid appeal and its capacity for more mature messages. The series has some of the best villains ever, and much like Hugtto! Precure, they seem to provide more of a connection for parents and other grown-up viewers. Even with fairly sparse moments of characterization, you get a strong sense of who they are and why they turned to the dark side. Their concerns feel more adult, highlighted by the contrast between the Precures’ youthful enthusiasm and the bad guys’ jaded cynicism.
The team shot at the end of group transformation scenes encapsulates that older-younger dual appeal. Right after a collection of exciting and silly poses mimicking the shape of riceballs, sandwiches, and noodles, it finishes with a basic arms-on-waist stance viewed head on. The switch from dynamic and playful to very direct and straightforward gives what I think is broad appeal. Truly, this is a show for all ages.
Precure Says Trans Rights
One area in which Delicious Party Precure deserves praise is the steps it takes towards inclusivity. Building off of Kira Kira Precure a la Mode’s romantic tension between two girls and Hugtto! Precure’s (unvoiced but heavily, heavily implied) gay male relationship, this series introduces Rosemary, a CooKingdom “Cook Fighter”/mentor for the Precure who is clearly trans or nonbinary. While the show is never specific, it slso goes out of its way to never gender them, and other characters don’t question Rosemary’s appearance or behavior—not even the villains! There are some hints that Rosemary has struggled with gender identity, and this is the one area where the makeup sub-theme has any legs.
The heroines all admire Rosemary’s strength, wisdom, beauty, and heart—and in a time when trans people are unjustly labeled as predators, I think this is no small thing. I find it notable that as the author of one of the biggest fantasy series in history continues to descend into trans bigotry, that Precure progresses slowly but surely.
Following Through to the End
While Delicious Party Precure has its fair share of mostly self-contained episodes, the general food emphasis always makes them a pleasant experience. And when they tap into the larger plot being woven over the long term, they help to build towards a satisfying finish. While it doesn’t quite hit the tippity-top of my Precure rankings, I can find very few glaring flaws. It was one of the highlights of watching anime every week, and the overall story is full of mental and emotional goodness—providing a balanced media diet.
OGIUE MANIAX 