There’s too friggin’ much good anime, you guys. We’re now over three weeks into the winter season, and I’m still so buried in worthwhile shows that I’m struggling to manage it all. I’ve been doing my best to cram in lingering episodes of Mob Psycho, my two CG-heavy properties seem to actually be getting better over time, and there are still plenty of things I haven’t even gotten the chance to continue. I’ve been hearing good things about Endro!’s later episodes, and Dororo could well be the best dang show of the season, but I am doing my best here. And I suppose Too Many Good Shows is always the best problem to have, even if it does turn all my Week in Review posts into monumental undertakings. Even if I haven’t caught up on everything, I’ve caught up on plenty already, and I have piles of thoughts to share with all of you. Let’s break down at least a slice of this season’s bounty in one more Week in Review!

The Promised Neverland continued in its generally sturdy way this week, as we made our way through a variety of secretive plots and Krone made her big introductory splash. I’ve heard scattered misgivings throughout the internet regarding Krone’s design, and I definitely sympathize – she’s clearly drawing on racial caricatures that would never fly in modern American media, and which are symptomatic of Japan’s often frustrating depictions of people of color. Personally, I don’t think there’s any genuine malice in her design or narrative – it seems reasonable to me to assume that her design is based in ignorance and a history of caricatures being accepted, and her characterization is perfectly reasonable. Thus, I can totally understand why people would be put off by or even drop Neverland based on this choice, but it’s something I personally can acknowledge intellectually without having it kill my emotional engagement.

Anyway, design issues aside, Neverland’s adaptation continues to shine the most when it comes to its claustrophobic interior sequences. It’s actually kinda funny that in base visual design terms, Neverland’s CG backgrounds are its weakest element, because they might also be the element most central to what this production has specifically chosen to emphasize over the manga. The Neverland manga is beautiful, but it’s beautiful in the way an illustrated manuscript is beautiful – it’s a procession of richly detailed but dramatically isolated setpieces, while the moment-to-moment paneling can often be pretty weak. In contrast, the Neverland adaptation has chosen not to pursue the manga’s ornate beauty whatsoever, and is instead prioritizing cramped indoor discussions shot through evocative but ultimately very achievable hand-camera layouts.

In light of this, those CG backgrounds are actually pretty important, as they allow the show to achieve the close dolly-style pans and tight angled turns that define its visual identity. Though I initially condemned Neverland’s backgrounds because they’d never achieve the beauty of the manga’s panels, it turns out the anime accepted that tradeoff from the start, and is instead pursuing its own aesthetic goals in the best way it can. It just goes to show the complexity of adaptation, and the validity of many approaches to “bringing a manga to life.”

I finally finished Tsurune this week, which concluded with all the grace and beauty you’d expect. On the whole, I greatly appreciated how this show’s final act doubled down on prioritizing emotional growth outside the confines of high school specifically – Masaki ended up having as well-defined an emotional arc as anyone, and his students learned a great deal from his obvious vulnerability. And of course, the finale itself was a beautiful accomplishment that consistently embodied the unique tone this show so often strives for. The clarity and stark freedom of the range was evoked through a breathtaking procession of neatly angled compositions, simultaneously conveying the intimacy of competing with trusted teammates and the bracing sensation of firing into open air. Outside of stuff like Liz and the Blue Bird, Tsurune might be the most unabashedly tone-focused production KyoAni have produced, and it’s a marvelous testament to that style’s dramatic appeal. I’m gonna miss these good archery boys.

Run with the Wind pulled off another stunner of an episode this week, as Prince’s final, desperate victory was packed into an episode already stuffed with great payoffs, like the end of the training camp and the illustration of Kakeru’s new growth. It’s reflective of Run with the Wind’s general excellence that one more beautifully realized track meet could actually come off as an episode’s afterthought – and yet, both his resolution and Kakeru’s felt natural here, and shared the episode gracefully. Kakeru’s mental reservations and Prince’s physical ones have been the two greatest hurdles to this team’s success, and it was as wonderful to see Kakeru smiling and laughing with his friends as it was to see Prince triumphantly cross that finish line. As I’ve said before, when you build up a cast of characters this well, every idle interaction becomes its own reward.

The Magnificent Kotobuki pulled off what was almost certainly its strongest episode yet this week, as well as the episode that seems most likely to indicate its overall trajectory. While the first two episodes were somewhat bogged down with introductory components, this episode was an entirely fresh story that seemed determined to answer the question, “what if Seven Samurai were actually about dogfighting.” The significant base appeal of that concept was further bolstered by the delightful absurdity of the Elite Squadron, whose “we’re pirates who like to pretend we’re a serious corporation” gimmick would have been great even without their amazing theme song. It seems like Kotobuki’s actual focus will be on little episodic stories like this one, where both Mizushima’s tongue-in-cheek dramatic sensibilities and his brilliant action cinematography will have room to shine. I’m glad the anime industry as a whole has seemed to realize that “get out of Mizushima’s way” is always the best policy.

This was also a key episode for Kemurikusa, as the lurking tone of post-apocalyptic mystery that had embellished its first two episodes was at last embraced directly. Rin and her companions’ journey away from Island 1 was an eerie and beautiful experience, as we moved through a dense fog over a sea of dilapidated human creations. Kemurikusa has always taken a smartly matter-of-fact approach to its worldbuilding, with only Wakaba ever really expressing any surprise at the world around him (something I’m beginning to suspect is his main purpose: giving the sisters someone to explain things to). Because of this, it’s able to maintain shocking base elements of its world and characters as natural “twists,” since they’re things that most of our cast take for granted. This episode’s many reveals about the nature of the sisters and their world felt as naturally conveyed as they were inherently compelling, clearly demonstrating that Tatsuki’s first post-apocalyptic wonderland was far from a fluke. Kemurikusa’s simplified, workmanly script and humble visual execution make it easy to underestimate, but its underlying storytelling and efficiently illustrated world continue to impress me.

This week also concluded JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure‘s epic train battle, a fight that I’d readily say counts among both the most exciting and most ludicrous of JoJo’s storied run. I remember initially wondering why we were spending so much time establishing this particular group of enemy goons, but payoffs like “Pesci undergoes a three-episode arc that resolves in him finally becoming a JoJo character” made it abundantly clear. The switch from background character lighting to Dramatic JoJo Protagonist Lighting was a hilarious beat, while the fight itself managed to constantly and creatively one-up itself while always remaining coherent, as if this really would be how a fight between, er, a fishing rod/aging bomb and sentient six shooter/universal zipper would resolve. The dramatic rise and fall of battle kept energy high without ever feeling exhausting, the balance of Pesci’s arc and Bucciaratti’s steady progress gave us a strong sense of momentum, and the tactical reversals pretty much all felt natural and convincing. Golden Wind is on fire.

And of course, there’s Mob Psycho 100. Though the first episode of this new season focused closely on Mob’s adolescent trials at school, the subsequent several have all prioritized his relationship with Reigen, which has undergone an interesting shift. In Mob’s first season, Reigen actually being a genuinely good mentor and supportive surrogate parent was essentially a “twist” saved for the end – he was always roguishly charming and concerned for Mob’s well-being, but you didn’t necessarily get the sense he was a vital influence on Mob’s life. In season two, Reigen has basically been in full Dad Mode from the start, and it’s been wonderful. You wouldn’t think this slapstick, action-packed psychic drama would be the place for a nurturing, heartfelt parent-child narrative, but Reigen’s steady concern for Mob has made this show one of the better anime about parenting that I’ve seen. And then of course you’ve got the thrilling fights, the gorgeous animation… Mob Psycho is really, really spoiling us.