I’ve been dealing with some close personal tragedy this week, but hey, I’m still here. I thought about maybe taking this week off from the Week in Review, and really couldn’t have imagined watching and enjoying seasonal anime a few days ago, but returning to cartoon normalcy has actually been a big emotional help. And it’s nice that this season’s anime are themselves so emotionally generous, from the rich tonal sympathy of Given to the tangled dramatic knots of O Maidens. I’m still feeling pretty hollow and distant at the moment, but I appreciate the company of all of you, and the comfort of returning to the things I love. Let’s talk about some cartoons.

In spite of being named after a goddamn Hoobastank (perhaps the worst band name of all time) song, this week’s Given was just as charming and engaging as the show’s usual standard. The first segment of the episode kept things light, as Haruki’s flippant and frequently starstruck internal voice led us through his first meetings with Akihiko. These scenes were endearing in their own right, and smartly pulled double duty as both band backstory and a more focused introduction to Haruki’s personality, but their charms were overshadowed by the episode’s stunning final scene. Given’s control of tone and use of layouts have always been excellent, and those strengths contributed greatly to the profound intensity of Ritsuka’s meeting with his female classmate. From the refreshingly honest dialogue to the intimidating blocking and clever use of a plane’s trajectory as a mirror of Ritsuka’s crashing thoughts, it was a tremendous piece of filmmaking altogether, and a clear demonstration of this show’s most unique and impactful assets. Great stuff, Given.

After its unfortunate stumble during the Mars Brightest arc, Carole & Tuesday has been steadily climbing back to its former greatness, culminating in one of the show’s very best episodes so far. Flora’s simple but poignant story felt like a clean distillation of this show’s overall thoughts on music and the music industry – a beautiful, inspiring, utterly transcendent force for good, shackled by an economic framework that seems hellbent on squeezing the light out of its stars, and then discarding them entirely. Flora gained and then lost everything, but her hope was restored by the people she touched – even if the industry abandoned her, her voice reached Gus and Carole, and inspired them enough to save her in turn. Simple, iconic narrative beats told a classic story of artistic inspiration and redemption, elevated through some of the show’s best songs and most beautifully executed performances yet. I really do love this show.

O Maidens in Your Savage Season underwent a bit of a transition episode this week, as the established individual conflicts of its first act all began to converge on the upcoming school festival. There weren’t too many standout individual scenes in this one, but the show’s consistent strength of characterization meant there was still a real bite to sequences like Kazusa reflecting on her relative prettiness compared to Sugawara. Though Kazusa’s comments were based entirely in self-doubt, it was rewarding to see Sugawara basically flinch at her words, with Kazusa’s focus on ephemeral beauty echoing Sugawara’s own trauma. This episode’s heavy Kazusa focus actually seemed to underline the fact that Kazusa has become the least interesting member of the literature club – her problems are relatable, but they’re universal in a way that lacks the personal bite of stories like Sugawara’s or Sonezaki, and with lower stakes as well. Sugawara’s increased involvement in her story might change that, though; Sugawara is both the most proactive and most interesting member of the cast, and I’m happy to see her taking a greater interest in her clubmates’ messy emotions.

Finally, after last week’s non-stop action spectacle, this week’s Granbelm slowed down to check in on the human conflicts of basically every cast member, a choice that demonstrated both this show’s dramatic strengths and weaknesses. On the negative side, I still just can’t bring myself to care very much about Anna’s personal drama. I can appreciate her drama in a thematic and structural sense – I think it offers a nice twist on the general cruelty of this show’s mage system, as well as offering her a point of thematic connection with Mangetsu’s story. The problem is, Anna herself just hasn’t demonstrated any subtlety of characterization, and has mostly played into a cackling villain archetype that has made it hard to feel much sympathy for her perspective.

On the other hand, Shingetsu and Mangetsu’s conversations about the difficult compromises of living at the end was absolute fire, and some of the sharpest dialogue of the series so far. Each of them have clear and well-illustrated reasons for lacking self-worth, and each of them are able to articulate their insecurities in piercing, universally resonant language. Given the rapid pace with which we’ve run through active contenders, I’m guessing the actual Granbelm competition will only be occupying a portion of this show’s runtime – and I’m eager to see where all this “striving for a better self” philosophizing ultimately goes.