Non-management: Spice and Wolf is such a blast from the past. It’s not the first anime I watched, but it is one of the first I enjoyed back when I really decided to get into the medium. I only keep up with one or two series at a time nowadays (plus a movie or another show if I get really “inspired”), but I watched a ton of anime those first several years. I’m not going to go back to watching anime like that. I’m a lot more picky with stories now. I don’t have as much free time. Yet, one series I was unequivocally glad to have watched was Spice and Wolf. It didn’t have the widest world or the most action, but its naturalistic approach to worldbuilding fit its journey narrative like a glove. It had a great balance of letting its characters breathe and enjoy and explore themselves even as it introduced conflicts that quickened their hearts, strained their heads, and wetted their eyes. I’m a huge fan of all kinds of history and social science disciplines, and Spice and Wolf’s economic, political, and religious dynamics and later medieval Europe-inspired setting drew me even more. Spice and Wolf’s well-realized characters and romantic chemistry were also something else.

Long-time fans of Spice and Wolf have waited years for a new Spice and Wolf anime project ever since the original anime concluded its second season in 2009. We got one in 2024 in the form of a reboot, which may have not been what old fans necessarily wanted. It’s been a decade though, the production committee for the new anime probably wants to draw in new eyes and the old anime only ever garnered enough popularity to be a cult classic. The original anime adaptation also skipped and rewrote important events and characters from its source material, making a direct sequel to the old anime more complicated writing-wise. To mention a couple cons, Spice and Wolf (2024) got a weird new title I refuse to call it by; to me, it’ll just be Spice and Wolf (2024). It also hasn’t been particularly excellent with its direction or animation, and I honestly prefer the atmosphere of the old show a bit more. At the same time, the new show will cover source content that was cut in the old adaptation, with the bits included so far being pretty interesting and hinting at an even larger prominence for the story’s religious conflicts.

Spice and Wolf (2024) also nails the most critical elements for me, the character development and dialogue between Lawrence and Holo. Watching them work each other was like being transported into the past to a less complicated time, like Ego Anton eating amazing ratatouille. It’s a bit of a shame the new Spice and Wolf isn’t virally catching on with audiences like I hoped, and some snobbier fans of the older series have been putting in 2024 one down for not being exceptional enough to justify its existence. Why watch the 2024 version when there’s the old one? Besides the promise of new story content the old one didn’t adapt, the 2024 anime is an opportunity to attract new fans to the Spice and Wolf franchise. I’m not above criticizing the reboot for this or that (I did it just earlier), but unless Spice and Wolf (2024) ruins the story’s most critical elements (and so far it hasn’t), shouldn’t the chance for new people to love Lawrence and Holo’s journey together be enough to express some appreciation, some gratitude it exists?

Anyway, I’d like to give a big thanks to ANN’s Lynzee Loveridge for commissioning my article. Below is a summary short of the article. If you’re interested in reading further, click the link embedded in the title or at the end of the article sample:

Welcome Back, Spice and Wolf

Back when Funimation was still its own company and not owned by Sony, long before its in-house streaming service was terminated in favor of Crunchyroll‘s streaming platform, it owned a TV channel. Legal streaming had yet to dominate the Western anime scene and satellite competed with cable for TV audiences. My family had a satellite subscription, and among the networks packaged in our satellite TV bundle was the FUNimation Channel. Being in that honeymoon stage of obsession after discovering a new exciting hobby (or maybe it was just me), I watched everything broadcast on that channel in my free time. One show from those halcyon days tugged my heart tighter than most, and whether from TV or some other means, I know I’m not alone in my glowing nostalgia for the traveling merchant and wise wolf girl. I loved Spice and Wolf.

But what about Spice and Wolf (2008-2009) merits that fondness? If I had to limit my focus to just a few things, it’d be its rich, real, and living fantasy world, its deep exploration of economics, politics, and religion, and its strong character chemistry and legendary romance. Does the 2024 reboot manage to capture the original anime’s charm? After watching what’s been aired so far by this article’s publication, I’d have to say yes… READ MORE

Non-management: Re: Zero partially inspired that Dark Souls fanfic I wrote a while ago, an influence that lives on in all the Dark Souls comparisons I made in this most recent Re: Zero article (it’s not all clickbait, I swear). The Dark Souls world is just a fascinating setting to think about if you’ve ever been inclined to think about existentialism: How do you choose to act and continue to go on in a harsh and bleak world? There just seems to be something extra compelling thinking about how people in such a universe would ultimately conduct themselves given how easy it is to get killed in it. I imagine there are many who would give into the “every man for himself” mentality given the circumstances, which makes the few instances of heroics and kindness despite these times and places all the more moving to witness.

It’s true that Re: Zero was more directly inspired by the “Bad Ends” of visual novels that anything directly Souls-like, but the parallels to Dark Souls are easy enough to imagine. Its main character Subaru dies repeatedly, and the show makes a point about most of these deaths being awful experiences for him to endure. He falters under the trauma at times, but he gets back up every time and ultimately prevails over every challenge and obstacle set before him. He endures tremendous hardship over and over to finally obtain the info and luck he needs to prevail because he knows not doing so will doom his loved ones and the heroic image they see in him.

The Re: Zero universe is out to get most of his loved ones, and him getting in the way of the universe is causing the universe to get after him. Witnessing all his suffering and bullshit, it would make all the sense in the world for him to let the universe have what it wants to spare him the trouble. The guy is only human. But the fact that he doesn’t even after that one time he seriously considers it makes his kindness heroics so much more endearing to watch. It is an absolute sacrifice for him to ironically not want to sacrifice anyone he holds dear. Yet the absolute tragic thing about that sacrifice is that he doesn’t think his goodness and heroism comes naturally to him.

Re: Zero begins as the tale of male isekai guy Subaru who comes off feeling entitled to the power, escapism, and fantasy of the isekai world that he alone (or at least few like him) was magicked into. He then gets knocked off his pedestal and his shit kicked in and is revealed to be someone eminently relatable to a lot of the show’s viewers, myself included: a lonely adrift young man with nerd otaku interests and deep-seated self-esteem issues. Subaru wanted to roleplay a hero, not just to live out his nerd fantasies, but because he thought being a hero meant being someone who is seen as being a good person that others would like to be around. Even after discovering it wouldn’t be as easy a feat as he hoped, still decided to roleplay as one because he craved being good and desiring company so much. I find that so relatable because I also struggle with wanting to be better and wanting others to like me.

I, like Subaru, also roleplay, and one day, we both hope it stops being roleplay.

Anyway, I’d like to give a big thanks to ANN’s Lynzee Loveridge for commissioning my article. Below is a summary short of the article. If you’re interested in reading further, click the link embedded in the title or at the end of the article sample:

Roleplaying in Re: Zero, the Dark Souls of Isekai

As someone who used to play games more actively, watching Re:Zero – Starting Life in Another World dredged up old memories of playing Dark Souls. Fans of both franchises could probably draw some easy comparisons. They’re both dark and often bleak fantasy series known for their brutal and challenging “content.” The isekai main character of Re:Zero and most new players in Dark Souls die easily and often in encounters. Then they come back to life and face them again. Then they get killed, revived, and start the cycle over. Natsuki Subaru and practiced players get stronger and more skillful over time as they persevere through death and frustration, and eventually, they prevail over the challenges in front of them before facing ones further up. Media essayists like me write at length about how the cycle builds character in Subaru and some players.

Not to say analyses about people overcoming adversity with the help of media consumption aren’t worth reading, but for this article, I’m interested in discussing a type of play less connected to these franchises’ action-adventure: roleplay. To roleplay is to play the role you don’t normally identify with. It’s a form of play that’s not exclusive to hack-and-slash and magic blasts and can even be done alongside it, a kind of play that mediates how I engage with games like Dark Souls and how Subaru approaches his ordeals in Re:Zero. Much like how I roleplayed in Dark Souls to protect all the non-playable characters (NPCs) I like, Subaru also roleplays to protect those he loves. We used game-breaking tools and spoiler-y knowledge that no one else in these dark fantasy settings has access to because, by whatever means, we want to save people and we want to be better… READ MORE

Non-management: I know it’s been so long since the film came out (and just thinking about it gets me thinking “God damn, that was literally over a decade ago-OW MY BACK), but my take on the Rebellion controversy has been simmering on low flame in the back of my mind, living rent free like a fairly well-behaved brain goblin who I still was unnerved about because he looks ugly and kind of stinks. With the opportunity a decade later to write this piece, I’m finally able to set the brain goblin loose, at least for a bit. Hopefully my mindspace can air out a little now.

Some people in the Madoka Magica fan discourse think the Rebellion sequel movie ruins the conclusion and resolution of the original TV series, and/or it assassinates Homura’s character, and/or it is a half-hearted, thematically inconsistent cash grab of a film that its story creator Gen Urobuchi didn’t originally plan for but was pushed into writing for the sake of forcing the neatly-crafted closed ending of the mainline series open with seemingly contrived conflict. And yeah, from what we know, there weren’t any plans originally for a direct Madoka Magica sequel, and sure, there’s an viable argument that Homura’s characterization is no longer the cleanest because of that compared to the other magical girls.

However, I feel it’s kind of narrow-minded and self-absorbed to look at these points and cynically conclude that Rebellion was unnecessary, that it ruins an otherwise an excellent (if not perfect) story with a forced narrative issue (Homura’s apparent turnabout). Notwithstanding the evident passion Rebellion’s animators put into the film (which I’ll admit I found a bit self-indulgent compared to the relative grounded-ness of the TV series) I feel this kind of reasoning stems from a bias to consume rather than learn from media. It’s like the difference between wanting to enjoy a tasty and satisfying meal vs wanting to explore new dishes and flavors.

People do both to varying degrees, but speaking for myself, I like the idea of stories teaching me new things and revealing to me new insights that challenge how I initially perceive story, myself, and reality up to now, even if the execution comes off somewhat clunkily and messily (and sometimes, such as in many existentialist stories, the chunkiness and messiness is a feature rather than a defect). Human beings are messy, after all, and full of contractions. A human life’s trajectory isn’t always a satisfying arc like in many of the best-rated shows. People can regress, especially under mental hardship, people like Homura.

Maybe Homura Akemi’s descend in Rebellion from Madoka’s most devoted magical girl to her greatest nemesis is at least somewhat revisionist, but so is Lucifer Morningstar’s fall in Paradise Lost from God’s right hand angel to the Satan Devil of unholy perdition.

Anyway, I’d like to give a big thanks to ANN’s Lynzee Loveridge for commissioning my article. Below is a summary short of the article. If you’re interested in reading further, click the link embedded in the title or at the end of the article sample:

The Ultimate Madoka Recap and Homura’s Lost Paradise

It has been over a decade since Puella Magi Madoka Magica mainline story received an anime project. It’s now 2024, and the long-awaited movie follow-up to the controversial Rebellion film, Walpurgisnacht Rising, is set to come out soon. As it’s been so long since the original TV series and its sequel film aired, let’s do an ultimate Madoka recap before discussing the series’ other star character and conflict driver in both films, Homura. Contrary to the memes and my adoration for her character, Homura did do something wrong. She shares more than a few parallels with Lucifer from John Milton’s Paradise Lost. After Homura, I’ll speculate on what to expect in the upcoming sequel. Spoilers ahead.

Woken up from a nightmare – a clockwork woman atop a floating girl and a city in ruins – Madoka Kaname prepares for another day of school. After checking in with her family and meeting up with friends, homeroom begins with a mysterious transfer student, Akemi Homura. The normally bubbly Madoka recognizes her from her dream and is shocked. She becomes doubly unsettled when Homura asks for her help to visit the nurse’s office. Now just the two of them, Homura turns to Madoka and asks if she’s happy with her life and her loved ones as they are now. Madoka answers yes, and Homura replies that’s good and she should stay where she is… READ MORE

Non-management: I’ve been getting very busy with my new full-time job. It been demanding more of my time and focus than my previous one, which has unfortunately led me to lag behind in my writing. The inability to get any night’s rest that’s more than 5 hours each day is also taking a toll on my productivity (can’t really write well when I’m mentally exhausted), and I imagine it’ll get worse with the oncoming prospect of 8+ hour overtime and 6 day work weeks (which thankfully isn’t a regular thing). I don’t dislike my current job – in some ways it’s more fulfilling than my former English teaching one – but wouldn’t it be nice to go back to those days of leisurely watching cartoons with seven hours of sleep on average?

Before it was anime, it was Superfriends on Boomerang and the DCAU on Cartoon Network. I was more of a Batman fan then because he was edge and smart, and I was edgy and (thought I was) smart. I admit I liked that darker vibe, though thankfully my appreciation for Batman ultimately went deeper than that, because whoo boy were big screen superheroes being cynical, brooding, and trigger-happy all the rage for a time. I liked DCAU Batman because of his expectation gap: he’s hardnosed, but he’s kind. Greatest example of this is in one episode where between choosing to (1) end the life of an terminally ill and traumatized mutant girl whose psychic powers could waste the city if not scaled back (2) convince this girl to draw back her powers at that last minute and just be there with her in her last moments, Batman chooses the latter. He would always choose the latter, even if the former seems like the easier and surer way to solve the situation and save the most lives.

Yeah, this Batman presents himself as cold and aloof quite often, but underneath that all is a heart and care for others that weighs more than his billionaire fortunes.

So I’m irked that a lot of the more recent blockbuster Batman media tends to neglect that heart and compassion of his in favor of leaning way more into his angst and edginess. I’m doubly ticked when Superman of all superheroes, the one that historically never concealed his heart and basically wears it on his chest with an “S,” has been portrayed in his recent Hollywood iterations as mostly angst and edge. Admittedly, it’s somewhat a novelty in Superman portrayals, even if cynical and grimdark superheroes by this point aren’t. Sure, I get that creators should get some slack to pursue new creative avenues to established genres and even characters (happens a lot in comics and even anime). Sure, I understand that he may need to be introduced to newer audiences in different ways to make him more relatable (because he sure was hokey in Superfriends). DCAU Superman was pretty good like DCAU Batman, but future portrayals of those superheroes shouldn’t have to be always perfect copies of past ones.

But Superman especially is more than just a character. He’s a cultural icon whose significance transcends the commercial value of the apparel that has his “S” slapped on it.

He is a symbol of the best of humanity, one by which people who know him and even know of him aspire and are expected to aspire to: a brave and kind soul who cares for his fellows enough to put himself out there to help them. To take the “man” out of Superman, to dehumanize him, to make him distant, to make him self-absorbed, to make him unkind… it makes Superman an awful role model. What would it say about our culture if this Superman becomes the cultural icon we end up putting on a pedestal and actively or passively encourage others to emulate? A fundamentally cold Superman like in the recent films in place of the fundamentally kind one of our childhoods is a Superman I deeply dislike. And thank God My Adventures with Superman is nothing like the former, even if it does novel, anime things compared to the latter.

Anyway, I’d like to give a big thanks to ANN’s Lynzee Loveridge for commissioning my article. Below is a summary short of the article. If you’re interested in reading further, click the link embedded in the title or at the end of the article sample:

How Anime Helped Save Superman

Besides enjoying anime, I grew up watching Bruce Timm‘s Superman. From watching his Superman: The Animated Series and Justice League cartoons, Superman became the superhero with the biggest guns, the biggest shield, and the biggest heart. I was a bigger Batman fan at the time, but that didn’t stop me from thinking about his words and his deeds. His comrades would call him their best hitter, while he would call himself their shield. He takes more blows so that others don’t have to, and while those blows aren’t normally as dangerous to him, they can still hurt a lot.

That care for others extends not just to his colleagues and loved ones, but to everyone. From villains causing doomsday to cats stuck in trees, he’ll rush down to assist people, no matter the trouble. He’ll take the time to pause his search for the people trying to hunt him to help reunite a lost girl with her mom. Despite technically not being from Earth or biologically even human, the superman Clark Kent grows up to be while raised by the Kents is proof in his story of a humanity that also exists in the positive abstract: love, charity, and kindness towards one’s fellow American, human, and person… READ MORE

Management: The idea for this article has been drifting in and out of my head for a while since last year, and it’s only now that I’ve had the time to sit down and write about it. I doubt most ANN readers know much about Buddhism, so it’s always a pleasure to educate folks about it, but I got a confession to make first.

I… like… isekai. I like isekai.* I admit it. The concept of isekai has always tickled me as both an avid fantasy fan (which a lot of isekai are nowadays) and a once avid RPG gamer. While I don’t necessarily want isekai to continue sucking up inordinate amounts of airing time from other kinds of shows, I don’t necessarily want isekai to entirely go away either. But I know, aside from the over-abundance of lazily produced isekai anime, even some of the more well-produced isekai shows have a tendency to lean this cocktail of power fantasy and toxic escapism. Our enthusiasm for this niche-r medium tends to attract fans who aren’t the most socially well-adjusted, men especially.

Speaking for the whole without picking on any specific individual, some of that disconnect by those fans with society is not deserved and some of it is very much so. Society can learn to respect nerdier interests and quirks better, and anime isekai fans can learn to respect social boundaries and women more. While there’s not anything wrong with OP MCs or fantastical worlds by themselves, too many isekai provide uncritical fantasies of self-insert-able male protagonists saying, doing, and getting whatever they desire because they have the power and the world bends around them. They can vicariously revel in being grossly selfish without universal or societal reprimand, or if they’re a little more self-conscious, they can self-identifying-ly frame grossly selfish outcomes as something society might not accept but the universe will totally abide by. This is especially egregious with these problematic isekai’s treatment of women, which goes beyond just more than physically or emotionally abusing them (however awful that is by itself). While I don’t think there’s anything wrong with sex positivism or even polyamory theoretically, these problematic isekai will give these male self-inserts a submissive woman, an obsequious woman, a harem of catering-to-all-sorts-of-personality-and-body-fetishes-while-still-being-ultimately-submissive-and-obsequious-to-the-male-self-inserts women, and most dubiously slave women.

I don’t like those isekai, but I like isekai(asterisk), and I love isekai that rip the problematic power fantasy and toxic escapist aspects of its genre a new one. However socially maladjusted their MCs are, those isekai don’t let their self-absorbance off the hook. Their strong character dramas and fantastical worldbuilding aside, Ascendance of a Bookworm is an isekai where its book-obsessed female protagonist is punished by her isekai world for her selfishness, and Re:Zero is an isekai where its otaku male protagonist is punished by his world for his. But they don’t stop at punishment. These isekai want their characters to succeed, ultimately. They just want to tie that success to them becoming better people…

…and that’s where reincarnation and Buddhism comes in. That’s where the reincarnation isekai sub-genre really “enlightens,” in my opinion.

Anyway, I’d like to give a big thanks to ANN’s Lynzee Loveridge for commissioning my article. Below is a summary short of the article. If you’re interested in reading further, click the link embedded in the title or at the end of the article sample:

Starting Over: Regrets and Redemption in Reincarnation Isekai Anime

Love them or hate them, isekai are popular, the reincarnation variety, especially since the anime debut of Mushoku Tensei and Truck-kun. Within isekai’s ubiquity, a niche within reincarnation isekai has caught my attention, represented through stories like Ascendance of a Bookworm and Re:Zero – Starting Life in Another World. These reincarnation isekai approach reincarnation less like a neat gimmick to be used however authors wish… and more like the tragic cycle Buddhism always regarded it to be.

Informed by Japan’s heavily Buddhist culture, reincarnation isekai are uniquely positioned to tell stories of regret and redemption, and I intend to explain how. But first, let’s discuss isekai and reincarnation… READ MORE

Management: Hi, it’s been another while since I’ve written something. After 5 years, I’m back from Japan and back in America. I felt melancholic about leaving, feel melancholic about returning, plus the Frieren anime was airing, and I decided why not write about both in an ANN article, because I like writing and I could use some extra money.

I’ve been following the Frieren manga for a while, sometime before the anime, and as much of a fan that I am of fantasy settings, and how much I’ve been craving for a slower and more atmospheric series set in a fantasy world, I was kind of put off for a while about what made Frieren so compelling. Well, the melancholy exuding from Frieren despite it not being exactly dark fantasy is compelling; there’s not quite many fantasy series like it. Still, I’m not really the kind of person that can’t really stop himself from declaring whether a series speaks to me or not until I can put words to feelings. Frieren’s an elf, and I’m not an elf, but I still felt sad for her and sad for myself for some reason. I finally found those words once I returned home and seeing all the stuff that’s changed, the places I used to pass by and the people that I knew before I left. A couple of these people are a husband that’s now on oxygen tubes and a wife that’s no longer around. My dad lightly chided me for suddenly getting all stiff and formal, and while I didn’t say anything back, I internally blamed it on the dull sadness that I was feeling then.

Melancholy. The sadness of leaving things behind and things leaving behind you. And suddenly, the melancholy I was getting from Frieren made a lot more sense to me. I suddenly understood what folktales like Rip van Winkle and Urashima Taro were trying to convey. And so, while I work and wait to find my next full-time job, I started to write.

Anyway, I’d like to give a big thanks to ANN’s Lynzee Loveridge for commissioning my article. Below is a summary short of the article. If you’re interested in reading further, click the link embedded in the title or at the end of the article sample:

Everything Changes in Folktales and Frieren

Many people have enjoyed high fantasy recently, especially with all the D&D media taking off. However, I’m willing to bet many fans of Frieren: Beyond Journey’s End didn’t initially become fans because of its fantasy approach. Frieren’s setting gets more complex and interesting over time, but its world-building is arguably pretty generic in the beginning. So, what makes Frieren stand out over less memorable high fantasies? Well… it begins melancholic and somberly.

Its official English title is Frieren: Beyond Journey’s End, but a popular fan title for it before its licensure is “Frieren at the Funeral.” As described, the story starts with a funeral for a human hero named Himmel. Of all things to die of, he dies of old age, decades after his biggest and riskiest fight to save the world. His ceremony is attended by his old comrades from way back. One of them is the she-elf Frieren, who looks not a day older since they last traveled together. She stares expressionlessly as he’s laid into the ground…

…and then wrinkles and sobs once the earth swallows his coffin. She regrets how little she feels she knows him. Rather than enchanting with magic, exciting with adventure, or engaging with armed conflict, Frieren hooks its audiences with grief and regret. Frieren uses the fantasy genre to illustrate the feeling, fear, and regret of being “out of place in time.” It affects elves, and through folktales like Rip Van Winkle and Urashima Taro, I’ll demonstrate how it can affect us humans, too… READ MORE

Non-management: Hi. It’s been a while since I’ve written anything anime-related, but I’ve been busy with my day job and Japanese studies, and now that Japanese test day is over and done with (for now, until December, oh no), I had the time to whip something up. However, I hit an issue of not being able to write anything about recent anime because (1) I haven’t been watching many recent anime because of real life, and (2) I didn’t think there’s anything about the recently anime that I have watched that I feel I’d be interested and capable enough to write about. So, I thought about past anime I’ve watched, and decided that yeah, I could whip something up about Hunter x Hunter (HxH). I say that like it was simple, but it’s been a while since I last watched it, and I don’t have the greatest memory, and oh boy let’s talk about Dragon Ball too… oh no this ended up being a lot.

So I wanted to write an angle to HxH that people online haven’t really talked about all that much, and one angle that came to mind was comparing Goku to Gon. People have talked about how Goku is a problematic guy, and people have really talked about how Gon is a troubled kid, but I haven’t seen a lot of chatter of comparisons between these two characters. It was curious to me, because I think of all the shounen heroes I’ve watched and observed since Goku debuted on the shounen battle genre stage, it was Gon who felt like the most direct spiritual successor to Goku. Goku being as iconic to the genre as he is, bits of his personality have reappeared in subsequent shounen heroes in subsequent shounen series time and time again (like Luffy in One Piece), but Gon seems to have inherited the most bad shit from Goku as well as a lot of the good stuff. Especially in the original Japanese, Goku isn’t a paragon.

Goku’s made selfish decisions that led to worse consequences for the people around him, but I feel like with lot of the cult of fan idealization that’s grown up around him, combined with (if not quite uncritically) how softly the narrative treats him compared to other stories about heroes with fatal flaws… perhaps Goku’s flaws are overlooked a bit too much for comfort. Not Gon though. Oh no, not Gon. Gon reaps blight from what he sows, and what was sown in him feels seems to partially stem from Goku, so I suppose the Hunter x Hunter author could have been implicitly criticizing how lightly Goku got off for his self-centeredness. I hate to throw out this term lightly (which is why I decided not to use it in the article proper), but rather than ignoring or downplaying the negative consequences of that Goku-esque self-absorption like other shounen series do with their protagonists, HxH embraces it with Gon before, dare I say, deconstructing it.

By deconstructing the Goku-inspired shounen hero, HxH innovates on the kind of storytelling the shounen genre is capable of. Here, we have to be careful of what is meant by deconstruction, because the term in the way it was intended to be used constructively wasn’t supposed to make narratives darker and edgier and subversive because those qualities are inherently more engaging. It’s meant to expand the possibilities in what a genre is capable of doing by driving the prevailing archetypes within them to an extreme that’s uncharted but still arguably follows the in-universe logic: a flawed shounen hero that falls really hard… but is then carried really hard by his friend.

On a different note, I got to write about the narrative significance reincarnation one day, and how that differs mightily with resurrecting or coming back alive like normal.

But anyway, I’d like to give a big thanks to ANN’s Lynzee Loveridge for commissioning my article. Below is a summary short of the article. If you’re interested in reading further, click the link embedded in the title or at the end of the article sample:

Hunter x Hunter & Dragon Ball Z: the Fall of the Shounen Hero

It probably wouldn’t be a stretch to say the most iconic face of the shounen manga battle genre would be Son Goku from Dragon Ball. Goku works to be the strongest in every arc, training especially hard when the next toughest villain appears. He’s also a pretty good-natured and down-to-earth guy. Honestly, he’s not unlike Superman in those respects. I suppose it’s little wonder then that online nerd forums periodically pit Goku and Superman in one clash or another: who’s stronger, who’s better.

I’m not interested in arguing who’d beat up who, nor do I want to argue who’s better written. All I’m saying is… if there’s one thing that Goku has that prototypical not-Snyder Superman doesn’t… it’s an obsession with fighting strong opponents. He likes it too much, to the point that it affects his other priorities. Despite this issue, Goku is such an iconic face in shounen battlers that he’s influenced so many MCs in the genre since, fragments of his personality reborn into new faces, good and bad. In Gon Freecss from Yoshihiro Togashi‘s Hunter x Hunter (henceforth HxH), we see a more biting exploration of the bad: that self-centeredness that Goku embodies.

It is in HxH‘s exploration of this self-centeredness that the series takes the shounen battler to new heights, and it achieves this by giving us a flawed hero, one that physically, mentally, and emotionally succumbs to their worst impulses… READ MORE

Non-management: Scrawny as I was, then and even now, I used to fantacize a lot about playing soldier. With an escrima stick or two in hand, I’d imagine myself wielding a variety of far more violent instruments: swords, guns, spears, cannons. I’d imagine myself in skirmishes and battles, as generals and warriors charging in and taking aim, spilling my enemy’s blood and then my own, cutting down foes before being cut down myself… all of this play, mind you. My tastes in media back then pretty much reflected those battle-struck fantasies, leading and advancing myself and parties and armies. I mean, I still do enjoy those kinds of media, but not as much nowadays, and I can’t stand the really gratuitously violent content. And that’s because, to a certain extent, I’m growing older, wearier, disillusioned with that sort of stuff. I know now there’s just too much cruelty and suffering in the world because of conflict. It’s too much anymore for me to enjoy the prospect of brutal violence for its own sake. There are few good wars.

That’s not to say my experiences are one and the same with a PTSD-stricken vet, but I get, a little, the kind of trauma war can have on people personally affected by it, young people particularly. I get, somewhat, the frustration of enduring those war pains with no signs of progress or victory in sight and for the sake of some stupid and irrelevant cause. I grew up on the war narratives of America fighting the good and triumphant fight in WWII, only to see myself and my generation turned sour on war in because of the travails and meandering of the American War on Terror. Whether one can serve honorably in war is a question that’s a resounding “no” for Paul Baumer and Shinei “Shin” Nouzen in theirs. In All Quiet on the Western Front and 86, neither of these young men feel pride in fighting for their sides–for countries that considers them expendable for their own greed, on the one hand, or because they hate them on the other–and words of praise for their war deeds are hollow or non-existent.

War so traumatizes their young formative years that they simultaneously are hurt by war and look forward to returning to it–much like an abusive domestic relationship–because there’s nothing left for them outside of war, or they feel like there’s nothing left for them outside of it. That ended up being the case for Paul, but it doesn’t have to be for Shin.

But anyway, I’d like to give a big thanks to ANN’s Lynzee Loveridge for commissioning my article. Below is a summary short of the article. If you’re interested in reading further, click the link embedded in the title or at the end of the article sample:

Home is the Battlefield for the Young 86

When protagonist Paul Baumer returns from the no-man trenches on leave, he finds himself alienated in his childhood home. Men of white, greying hair and smug, portly disposition crowd around Paul, dismissing his frontline soldier assessments, enraptured by cigar-lagered armchair play. Books and sketches of childhood interest offer Paul no more fancy or warmth—their meanings just the literal observation of dried black ink on dead plant matter, their sensations the chill of the eve Paul revisited them. What was to be respite from the stress of battle became a new and unfamiliar stress the twenty-something-year-old Paul could barely handle, and he departs his former hometown, regretful about ever returning. No longer the person that place once knew, Paul’s true and actual home is now very different: on the battlefield, with his comrades. And one-by-one, they all die there.

It is from this scene and the larger story of Erich Maria Remarque’s All Quiet on the Western Front that 86 -Eighty Six- draws its brutal and unglamorized characterization of war and the toll it takes on the young people that are drawn into fighting it. Like Paul, Shinei “Shin” Nouzen and his 86er comrades are given leave from the fighting. Unlike Paul, Shin and the 86 are offered the opportunity to retire from it all. And yet, after a hard-fought escape, a miraculous rescue, and a bout of rest (perhaps too much rest) they all decide, to their saviors’ bewilderment, to return back. They feel they must… READ MORE

Non-management: I’ve always been fascinated by the intersectional synthesis of cultures, which partly explains why I find the Taisho period such an aesthetic delight. Western culture meets Japanese , and the result is a delightful mixture of melting pot and patchwork. The Takarazuka Revue is one example of this, a Japanese interpretation of largely Western theater that started during Taisho. The Revue is thus a fairly unique form of theater that, to this day, draws in large audiences as mainstream form of theater and entertainment. Also fairly unique about the Revue is its all-female acting cast, which partly explains why those large audiences are mainly female. All the acting roles are filled by women, and most peculiarly, even though many of those roles are gendered male and female, the actresses fill in for both the women and men parts. Part of the women dress and act girly for the female musumeyaku roles; the other part crossdress and act masculine for the male otokoyaku ones. The Revue gives a special touch to the the otokoyaku’s performance of masculinity, illustrating an idealized form of their male models that their female audiences prefer over more naturalistic portrayals — cruder, ruder, lewder, more insensitive, aggressive, and domineering. The otokoyaku are the most recognizable faces of the Revue today.

The alternative portrayals of masculinity in the Takarazuka Revue that are put on by women are ironic, considering the origins of the Revue are from a founder and man who very much wanted the women in his theater and larger society to act their more traditional place: as good wives and wise mothers for the Japanese nation. His actresses were supposed to learn their social duties while making him money on the stage, then leave the stage for a man and children and never come back. Even the otokoyaku were expected to conform, their performance of masculinity originally intended as a means for them to understand their male models before joining them in the household as proper spouses. The actresses and the audience have long struggled with the Revue’s patriarchially conservative legacy, with many eventually imagining a theater space separate from the founder’s original vision, one where they can find personal enrichment in — men and society be damned. This particular reinterpretation leaves little theater space for reform though, as the Revue is periodically critcized for being escapist about men and society rather than progressive and revolutionary about pushing both into treating women more equitably.

In both its outer aesthetics and internal conflicts, the Takarazuka Revue has influenced the narratives of many anime, among them Revue Starlight, Kageki Shoujo!!, and Revolutionary Girl Utena. To different degrees, anime has incorporated and celebrated the Revue’s pageantry and female-transgressive opportunity, and also commented on and criticized the Revue’s masculine-coded competitiveness and heteronormativity. From real history to recent anime, the article linked below is an abridged history of Takrazuka Revue Influences in anime.

But anyway, I’d like to give a big thanks to ANN’s Lynzee Loveridge for commissioning my article. Below is a summary short of the article. If you’re interested in reading further, click the link embedded in the title or at the end of the article sample:

A History of Takarazuka Revue Influences in Anime

Shall I tell a modern tale of girls and a stage? Curtains unraveled to their far reaches, a grand staircase positioned in the back, the spotlight basks on two figures: a sweeping-dress maiden played by a woman, and an epaulettes-coat hero played by another woman. Both are from the Takarazuka Revue. The Takarazuka Revue is a popular Japanese all-female theater group founded in the early 20th century. Its theatrical adaptation of Rose of Versailles and other plays have been profoundly influential on the aesthetics and narratives of Japanese shoujo stories, those iconic settings of dress-wearing feminine women and crossdressing-masculine women cavorting gaily, gloriously, tenderly, and tragically on a Western-themed setting. Look no further than Revolutionary Girl Utena, Revue Starlight, and the recent Kageki Shoujo!! as proof of the Revue’s impact on anime and manga.

But alongside the melodramatic fantasies offered by the all-female Revue to their mainly female fanbase exists drama in the backstage and the audience. The hyper-competitive environment the Revue fosters and the specific physiological qualities the Revue demands take unhealthy tolls upon its actresses. The seemingly progressive image of an all-women stage and women playing both male and female roles in romantic plots hits the brick wall of tradition and institution, of men who once and still run the show and society… READ MORE

Non-management: I love me a good story about existentialism, and Vivy is one of the better written ones in anime. Most people don’t usually think about why they exist now and why things somehow are amidst the business and busyness of everyday life, but every now and then (maybe at least occasionally), most of us hit a roadside pothole, a rough emotional spell. Something horrible or disappointing happened. It throws us off our tracks, out of our normal routines. Depressed and dazed, we ask ourselves “Why did it have to come to this? Why did these bad things happen?” And in general, “Why do bad things happen? Why do they continue to happen?” If the answer turns out to be no good reason, then is existence worth continuing to live out, endure, and appreciate? As an AI intelligent sci-fi robot, Vivy is naturally predisposed to inquiring about her existence directly and sooner.

After twelve episodes and a hundred years of searching and struggle, Vivy’s personal answer to her life is an affirmative “Yes.”  And she gives it through song.

But man was it a pain to figure out exactly what kind of conclusion Vivy: Flourite Eye’s Song ultimately wanted to go for, story and thematics-wise. That’s not a slight to the show. It’s very well written. It balances its contemplative moments with its thrilling ones super well, but the plot-centric nature of the story necessary to facilitate those thrills also strung me along with what exact point Vivy wanted to make with its existentialism. That’s not an uncommon feature of many existentialist stories though. They’re full of characters meandering and bumbling around on their journeys towards self-discovery. I tried to capture that feeling of initial uncertainty and well-worn soles in my article, taking my readers on a journey of Vivy’s journey towards self-truth. I unfortunately had to omit mentioning some parts of it because the article was getting too long (it’s still my longest ANN article yet), but I hope people still enjoy and get something out of it.

Anyway, I’d like to give a big thanks to ANN’s Lynzee Loveridge for commissioning my article. Below is a summary short of the article. If you’re interested in reading further, click the link embedded in the title or at the end of the article sample:

Vivy: a Robot Ode to Life Vividly Lived

Science fiction boasts a rich history of making audiences ponder how different people’s lives would be in a future of new technologies. The more profound sci-fi stories don’t only imagine how cool or even convenient it would be if certain technologies existed; they also speculate on how these technologies could shape our understanding of ourselves and the world around us. Take robot artificial intelligence (AI), which, for simplicity’s sake, I’ll be referring to as just robots. Wouldn’t it be super convenient if robots did more of our work for us? Couldn’t it be dangerous to rely too heavily on robots? Questions such as these, which concern the role of robots in humanity’s future, are a staple of the sci-fi genre. The answers arrived at vary: some stories paint post-labor and post-scarcity worlds built around robots; others warn about robots not only replacing our work, but humans altogether.

However, Vivy -Fluorite Eye’s Song- is a prime example of how not all robot sci-fi is about the horror-tinged extent to which robots would and should replace us. Sure, the show does touch on those Terminator concerns, but in lieu of how alienatingly mismatched robots are to humans, Vivy is, through a life and a song, a different tale of a journey of robots becoming more human, and what these journeys of robots communicate about humanity… READ MORE