Today on Why It Works, I wrote a general exploration of SSSS.Gridman’s phenomenal ability to convey the suffocating atmosphere of its strange world. From its vast and alienating exterior scenes to its carefully detailed interiors, Gridman is thrilling me every week with its visual design, and I was happy to gush about it. I hope you enjoy the piece!
The Solemn Beauty of SSSS.Gridman
“You’re guilty of the crime of being you, and so, too, shall that be your punishment.”
– Jun Aikawa, the World’s Strongest Contractor
When I reviewed the first volume of the Zaregoto series, I was somewhat at a loss as to what to actually write about, as I’m not really a mystery fan. It’s clear that Nisio Isin himself started his writing career far more fascinated with mysteries for their own sake than he ended up – though shows like Monogatari are technically constructed around mysteries, they always ultimately reveal themselves to be about human psychology, instead. Who did what to who is never the actual point; it’s what drove a given story’s players to that point which is interesting, and “solutions” generally hinge not on figuring out who’s guilty, but on whether the guilty party can learn to embrace whatever truth they’re hiding from themselves.
Settle in folks, it is absolutely past time for another dash of Doremi. I’m currently sitting near the end of a long and stressful workday, but my spirits have legitimately been kept high all day by knowing I’ve got a new Doremi episode waiting at the end. This show’s world is so inviting, cast so charming, and stories so suffused with empathy that it’s hard not to smile while watching. Doremi is a genuinely thoughtful and often dramatically creative children’s show, but it’s also just the most inviting comfort food of all time, and I’m always happy to return.
The show wasn’t really in comfort food mode last week, though – in fact, Aiko’s failed reunion with her mother was another of Doremi’s signature tearjerkers, and its nuanced, dramatically somber finale felt like one of the most painfully real moments of the show so far. After having her trust betrayed by her father and finding herself incapable of greeting her mother, Aiko ended up simply reflecting on her childhood memories, her friends by her side. Life can be frustrating like that; we’re often burdened with feelings that demand some sort of cathartic, coherent resolution, but the real world rarely offers neat conclusions for our personal stories. We’re often forced to find solace much in the way Aiko did; by accepting that the past is the past, our stories are still being written, and we can always rely on the support of our friends.
Anyway! Last episode was a truly great one, but given we just passed a big dramatic highlight, I’m guessing we’re in for some also-welcome farcical nonsense this time. Let’s get right to it!
After a half-dozen episodes of escalating tension and epic climaxes and dramatic board-flipping, I’m almost relieved to announce that Princess Tutu’s sixteenth episode is a very normal episode of Princess Tutu. The aftermath of Ahiru and Fakir’s battle with Kraehe has been largely settled, and the show has established a new episodic mode centered on Kraehe’s efforts to find a sacrifice for her father. This episode embraces that focus while returning to the sturdy, predictable narrative arcs of the show’s first half, arriving at a subtly menacing tone that evokes something like Revolutionary Girl Utena’s black rose arc. “We won, but the substance of our world only continues to fray” is an evocative concept, and Princess Tutu’s second half is happy to embrace that tonal energy.
Why does the anime do this to me. I feel like Run with the Wind, Gridman, and Tsurune could all easily have claimed the top spot in either spring or summer – here in fall, having all three of them at once just seems excessive. I know you shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth, but couldn’t we have parceled out these horses a little more consistently throughout the seasons? My cup runneth over with gift horses.
Anyway, complaints about Too Much Good Anime aside, there sure is a whole lot of good anime this season. Tsurune finally made its debut this week, and stunned from start to finish with its gorgeous color work, efficient characterization, and generally compelling art design. Run with the Wind maintained its cheerful general excellence, while Gridman demonstrated that its “default mode” is still a show well worth celebrating. With the action spectacles also holding steady, this is looking to quite possibly be the best season of the year overall. It feels almost certain that over half of my current watching schedule will end up in my top ten of the year, with only winter’s formidable Evergarden-After the Rain-Universe-Laid Back Camp block offering much competition. I am thrilled to be enjoying this much anime, and eager to share all my enthusiasm with you. Let’s start with our running boys and run this week down!
Today on Crunchyroll, I directly explored a topic that’s always been very interesting to me, but I’ve never really handled explicitly before. That’s frankly become a rarity at this point, given the hundreds of articles I’ve written, so I was happy to do a very specific dive into the various ways a smartly chosen ending song can actually elevate the drama of a show. I hope you enjoy the piece!
The Dramatic Power of a Great Anime Ending Song
Today on ANN, I reviewed the Garo the Animation tie-in film, which was… well, basically just what you’d expect from a tie-in film. In spite of coming out years after the show and following on with the continuing lives of all its characters, this film’s actual narrative was pretty minimal. Instead, the focus was clearly on constructing beautiful sets and conducting outrageous fights, two Garo mainstays that made for a very entertaining viewing experience. You can check out my full review below!
Alright folks, let’s settle in for another episode of Magical Girl Lyrical Nanoha. The show has stuck relatively true to a conventional magical girl template so far, though it’s certainly offered its own interesting embellishments. Nanoha’s plentiful worldbuilding, for one; instead of offering a vaguely defined set of magical powers or binary conflict between eternal enemies (like in Precure, where it seems like the “sides” have existed for all of time), Nanoha seems determined to sketch out an entire magical/science fiction universe, with Fate’s antagonism coming from a place of individual grievance, not destined conflict. That meshes a little weirdly with the numbered items they’re gathering, which seem more like the kind of plot device you’d see in a world where everything actually does revolve around our protagonists. In Card Captor Sakura, Sakura gathers all the cards herself because this is a show about Sakura – in Nanoha, our heroine and her enemy seem less destined than accidental, and so there’s an interesting style tension there.
Beyond the unique interplay of Nanoha’s magical girl and scifi action roots, the show is also just, well, weird. The storytelling is an odd mix of material seemingly aimed at both older and younger audiences, the story labors over incidental conversations that don’t really explain themselves, and the visual execution ranges from genuinely inspired to either baffling or totally flat. That makes for a very imperfect show, but it’s great news for me – I love investigating messy stuff, and Nanoha is certainly messy. Let’s check out what’s in store for our heroes in episode six!
Terrific news, everyone. Another month has come and gone, and so it’s time at last for some more Ojamajo Doremi. With Chihayafuru’s second season in the past and third season waiting in 2019, Ojamajo Doremi has once again assumed the mantle of my chief comfort food anime, and it serves that role with absolute distinction. On a plain aesthetic level, Doremi is simply a very good show – excellent characterization, simultaneously beautiful and charming art design, carefully crafted stories, etcetera etcetera. But beyond that, Doremi’s faith in the decency of people, and its gentle sympathy for its heroines’ struggles, is an oasis in a turbulent world, a sunny reading nook that I’m always happy to escape to.
Media that simply comforts you, whose principle goal is to make you feel safe and content and loved, gets a pretty bad rap in many critical circles. Obviously Ojamajo Doremi is intended to offer more than straight comfort food, but I personally feel the general disdain for “pleasant” or “unchallenging” media is fundamentally misguided. This is a very painful and complex world, and after dealing with all our daily challenges, sometimes we don’t want the shows we watch to actively squabble with us, to make us feel pain or attack our worldviews. Sometimes it’s been a long day and we just need a friend who’s there and happy to spend time with us, no expectations, no anxiety, just the natural contentment of being in a place you feel you belong. People deserve media that acknowledges that need, and media which makes us feel loved doesn’t have to be any less insightful, artistically compelling, or emotionally resonant. There is space for joy in the world and space for joy in art, and I’m happy to return to a show that is so willing to share its joy with us. I’m happy you’re all here, and I hope things are going okay. Let’s settle in for an episode of Ojamajo Doremi.
A great part of it is the rain, or rather, the felt sensation of perpetual rain. It pours down at all times, holding us up in bus stations or entryways or lonely stairwells, forcing us to relive old failures again and again. It’s cold and damp, and it makes us feel cold and damp in turn, unclean, ashamed of our clammy skin. It steals color from our surroundings, painting everything in a somber gray, draining the vitality of the landscape just as it drains our passion for the things we love. Others seem not to notice the rain, but simply emulating their behavior doesn’t make it go away. Whether you ignore it or acknowledge it, the rain doesn’t care – in the malaise of depression, it will remain your only true companion.