Hello folks, and welcome back to Wrong Every Time. This week my house finished off our rewatch of Slayers’ original three seasons, which we then followed up with the first Slayers film. This unfortunately proved a total disappointment; the film basically butchers Lina’s character, the tone shifts from fantasy adventure to outright farce, and Lina’s reliable adventuring party has been replaced by one obnoxious co-lead. Considering the other films all apparently follow this same formula, I’m now debating whether we should jump to the more recent Revolution seasons or just consider the franchise finished. I know those are generally less highly regarded than the original series, but it’s frankly hard to say goodbye to Lina and the gang – particularly knowing that with this, we’ve basically burned through anime’s apparent catalog of tabletop-reminiscent fantasy adventures. Anyway, our Slayers travels were accompanied by plenty of the usual film screenings, so let’s break down some movies in the Week in Review!
Monogatari Off/Monster Season – Episode 7
Hello folks, and welcome back to Wrong Every Time. Today we are returning to the supplementary trials of Monogatari’s mixed-up heroes, and likely getting into some sort of ornate Shinobu-related fiasco. It is little surprise that the show’s formal conclusion has resulted in all these dangling loose ends – after all, as Monogatari has always emphasized, becoming our best selves is the work of a lifetime. It was actually Sodachi’s first appearance that prompted Araragi to reflect on how “happiness isn’t a race,” and Sodachi returned to reiterate that truth last arc, offering Nadeko the world-weary assurance that nothing ever ends, we just keep working on ourselves and putting one foot in front of the other.
It is up to us whether we find that truth sobering or liberating – whether we lament the endless task of self-definition, or find hope in always having a second chance. But if Monogatari is anything to go by, we should take heart in how changeable our identities truly are, the miraculous fact that merely by dedicating ourselves to new daily practices, we can actually shift our fundamental nature. That we are works in progress will always be a source of anxiety, because it means we are never truly “perfect,” never done with our psychological odyssey. But that great adventure is both the trial and privilege of consciousness; the very fact that we can examine and even change ourselves is the great gift of human nature. Let’s revel in that gift once more, as we return to Monogatari!
The Legend of Vox Machina S3 – Episode 10
Hello folks, and welcome the heck back to Wrong Every Time. Today we’re diving back into The Legend of Vox Machina, as our team nurses their wounds and plot their next course of action. The battle against Thordak nearly bested them, leaving earth rent and allies fallen, while offering little hope of truly ending this conflict. Kash and Percy are dead, Scanlan is unresponsive, and now Raishan possesses Thordak’s corpse, with which she is presumably getting up to even darker business than its original owner.
It’s all a gloomy, calamitous mess, which seems perfectly appropriate for this moment in the party’s journey. Traditional adventure narratives generally have their protagonists hit some “lowest point” just short of the climax, where all hope seems abandoned, darkest before the dawn, yada yada yada. However, this sort of dive in fortunes clashes with the mechanical inevitability of the party getting increasingly powerful as the journey proceeds, alongside the necessity of maintaining a degree of player agency as conflicts arise. Given all that, one way to square increasing party strength with the need for a narrative dive is to offer a false victory like this, where the achievement of the party’s goals only reveals a second, scale-shifting threat that they must rise to challenge, frequently without the aid of the companions that accompanied them in achieving their false victory. Properly seeded, such a twist respects both player agency and dramatic necessity, making it little surprise that “and now the true threat reveals itself” is such a staple of tabletop play and videogames alike.
As for my own DnD adventures, we just yesterday ran the first section of my frontier town module, and dear lord did that take a lot of out of me. My generally linear quest structure was indeed something of a crutch; with the party free to roam this town as they will, I had to spend the vast majority of the session “on” in terms of spontaneous invention and character acting, conducting emergent drama one hard-fought minute at a time. But nothing in DMing comes easy, and so far my actual players seem to be having a wonderful time lurking in saloons and fixing card games and generally making a nosy nuisance of themselves. I’ll let you know how that proceeds, but for now, we’re back to the action!
Shoushimin Series – Episode 5
Hello folks, and welcome on back to Wrong Every Time. Today we’re diving back into the ominous undertones of Shoushimin Series, wherein Jogoro and Osanai have just cracked their first major case, and through doing so embraced more than a little of their initial, antisocial identities. In order to avenge Osanai’s bike and bring the delinquent Sakagami to justice, Jogoro employed his sharp fox nose once more, while Osanai “tore out his throat” by letting him take the fall for his associates’ identity fraud racket. Yet in spite of their success, cracking the case was not a happy occasion for our leads – it was a relapse, an indulgence in self-defeating passions that they have pledged time and again to abandon.
I can certainly understand their positions. You see characters like Jogoro and Osanai all the time in fiction and real life alike, and they don’t generally seem to be happy, fulfilled, and productively integrated into their communities. The instincts that make one a top detective or ruthless bloodhound are isolating, frictious, and perpetually unfulfilling; you end up pushing others away in your unerring, pragmatic dedication to your cause, and even successfully resolving one mystery only leaves you hungry and empty, eager for the next puzzle to distract you from your sprawling list of regrets.
Of course, many are willing to make that bargain, or find some peaceful balance on its margins. The question is, can indulging your obsession actually make you happy? Though Shoushimin’s subtitle references “becoming normal,” the more pertinent question is likely “becoming happy” – and our leads’ conflation of the two could well be the source of their misery. Jogoro and Osanai believe their passions will always isolate them, and they have ample evidence to support that conclusion. But given the anxious identity-stressing tempests of adolescence, they’re not really in the best position to be so harshly evaluating their prior identities – and given the stacking counter-evidence presented by characters like Kengo, the solution may be less “I need to disavow my reason for living” and more “I need to get out of high school and find my people.” Nonetheless, it is high school in which they are trapped, so let’s return to the anxiety factory for one more episode of Shoushimin Series!
Fall 2025 – Week 3 in Review
Hello folks, and welcome back to Wrong Every Time. Our late summer weather reprieve finally broke this week, meaning I’m hunkering down for half a year of gloomy New England doldrums. I’ve never been thrilled to live in a region whose weather feels like the meteorological embodiment of depression, but I imagine I’ll bear it with roughly as much grumbling as usual, and as much media to distract myself as I possibly can. As far as that goes, my house is now done with Andor and nearly out of Slayers, meaning it’s time to add some new productions to our daily diet. I’m thinking Future Boy Conan will be our next classic series screening, and I’m eager to see a young, fire-eyed Miyazaki tackle his first TV production. In the meantime, let’s break down some goddamn films!
Frieren: Beyond Journey’s End – Episode 14
Hello folks, and welcome back to Wrong Every Time. Today I’m eager to return to the rambling journey of Frieren and her companions, who just recently recruited the wayward priest Sein into their adventuring party. In spite of his profound magical talents, Sein was initially unwilling to join the party, feeling both a sense of obligation to his brother and a lingering regret regarding his long-gone friend. Having declined ten years ago to leave his village and head off adventuring, he believed his chance at seeing the world had passed, and that to leave now would be to chase after embers that had long since gone cold.
Frieren didn’t much like hearing all of this, mainly because it so clearly paralleled her own situation preceding the arrival of Himmel and his companions. Frieren isn’t particularly emotionally intelligent, but she can at least tell when she’s being used as a thematic punching bag, and thus resolved to ensure Sein made the same brave choice she once did. Thus, through the contrast of Frieren and Sein’s relative periods of hibernation, a comforting message emerged: that it is never too late to live the life you want, and that your grand adventure is not a train you can miss or catch, but an active project you can choose to embark on at any time.
As a viewer who’s lived well beyond conventional anime character senility, it’s nice to be assured there might still be life in these old bones. Let’s see what these old fogeys get up to as we return to Frieren: Beyond Journey’s End!
Please Put Them On, Takamine-san – Episode 2
Hello folks, and welcome back to Wrong Every Time. Today we are apparently continuing our journey through a production of obvious goals and limited means, as we explore the second episode of Please Put Them On, Takamine-san. The show’s premiere laid out its priorities pretty clearly: we’re in for a moderately lewd ecchi with a side of master-slave dynamics, as our protagonist Shirota is forced to become the “closet” of school idol Takamine, supplying her with plentiful panties as ammunition for her stripping-powered time reversal ability.
Honestly, that premise is strained and strange enough to potentially fuel something pretty funny, but the show has so far demonstrated no interest in leaning into the preposterousness of its central device, nor in reflecting on how perpetually reversing any potential “mistakes” in life might actually be a self-defeating philosophy. Nonetheless, optimism is free, so I’m hoping episode two will offer something more than “look at this half-naked girl.” Onward!
The Summer Hikaru Died – Episode 3
Hello folks, and welcome back to Wrong Every Time. Today we are returning to the sun-speckled foothills of a rural Japanese village, whose community seems to be suffering under a sprawling yet largely undetectable curse, a malaise that announces itself first as suspicion and then paranoia, before its victims are consumed by their fear entirely. Do not look at the creatures in the woods, do not think of the flesh beneath the surface, for these are all avenues to complicity, understanding, and eventual destruction. “Mix with that too much and you won’t be human anymore,” Yoshiki’s neighbor warns him. But is being human such a laudable thing?
Yes, it is time for The Summer Hikaru Died, offering a rich stew of folk horror, rural surveillance, and queer awakening. The food is delicious, but do not ask how it’s made; that metallic tinge in the pallet, that sweetness that feels a little too familiar, these are all questions with no comforting answer. The production is situated at a classic, fertile intersection of horror and character drama, presenting occult ritual as just another manifestation of conservative cultural hegemony, and “monstrousness” as the vital rebellion of youth against such forces. And beyond this sturdy metaphor, it’s also simply an aesthetically rewarding experience, with Ryōhei Takeshita’s adaptation cleverly capturing the paranoia of Yoshiki’s town and ambiguity of the hills beyond. Let’s get back to the woods!
Fall 2025 – Week 2 in Review
Hello folks, and welcome back to Wrong Every Time. This week has seen my house munching through Hades 2, which I am sorry to report we are frankly not enjoying. Compared to the satisfying weapons and copious synergies of its predecessor, Hades 2 just feels immensely clumsy; its magic system doesn’t seem compatible with its combat design, and most of the time it feels like I’m choosing between upgrade options that are all varying degrees of convoluted and disappointing. When you combine that with the game’s limited movement options and serious problems with visual clarity, it adds up to an experience where I rarely feel in control of the outcome; it feels like aggravating work, to be honest, and I doubt I’ll be playing through the narrative’s conclusion. But hey, that just leaves more time for movies, so let’s see what the week had on offer!
Kemonozume – Episode 1
Hello folks, and welcome back to Wrong Every Time. Today I’m thrilled to announce we’re embarking on a new adventure, as we explore the first episode of the ‘06 production Kemonozume. This series was actually the first TV production written and directed by Masaaki Yuasa, who has at this point proven himself not just anime royalty in his own right, but also one of the most important figures in the medium’s development across the 21st century.
Yuasa’s freewheeling visual style and piercing narratives have brought him international acclaim and legions of devotees, and his cofounding of Science SARU with Eunyong Choi resulted in a near-decade of legendary features, including series like Ping Pong the Animation and films like The Night is Short, Walk On Girl. From his directorial debut Mind Game through his Golden Globe-nominated Inu-Oh, Yuasa has built a canon that would be the envy of any director, and undoubtedly inspired a generation of similarly restless artists, people who wish to bring something genuinely new into the world.
I know little about Kemonozume specifically beyond the broad strokes of its premise: a violent love story in a world with shape-shifting carnivorous monsters. The fact that Yuasa both wrote and directed this one is pitch enough for me, particularly when he’s collaborating with regular character artist/animation director Nobutake Ito (Kaiba, The Tatami Galaxy, etc). After spending so much time appreciating Yuasa’s later work, I’m eager to see the distinct quirks of his first TV production, the apparent link between the ecstatic creativity of Mind Game and the honed thrust of Kaiba. Let’s get to it!