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Spy X Family's second season gives us more of what we have come to expect of the series while maintaining its stride. Most of the show's improvements in its structuring of stories and division of time between cast members have continued from the tail end of season 1 and into this season. Despite this, it would seem that the show is nearing the upper limit of its quality. While Spy Family is still undoubtedly entertaining and has a high level of polish in everything, from its comedic timing, animation, and voice acting, nothing truly exceptional distinguishes the series. This is not to say that the ... show has been mediocre or that there is no further capacity to up the ante in its comedy or stories. More so that the show's maximum potential in terms of its setting, themes and characters has become clearly defined by what this season sets up. That and some flaws in how the show manages viewer expectations have become a distinct limitation on its appeal to certain parts of its audience. While this level of quality and depth far surpasses what is required for a broad appeal, feel-good comedy to be considered a good watch, its potential to go from good to great is likely now beyond the trajectory it has established.

The most prominent issue that season 2 irons out is the lack of focus on Yor's character. Despite featuring prominently in the marketing and being billed as a leading cast member, she gets surprisingly little screen time in the first season despite its long 25-episode run. To the point where it felt like she was a supporting cast member more on par with her brother Yuri in terms of relevance to the spy premise and time spent on her character. Season 2 does rectify this, with the bulk of it being focused on a story led by her perspective. At the same time, the structuring of the season and its component sub-stories have been improved in how they try to distribute narrative time among the remaining characters and integrate them into a story instead of having them sit out entirely. The shorter, almost slice-of-life style, comedic scenarios are used to buttress the main multi-episode story of the season instead of the former being packed together in large chunks. This structure does away with the meandering feeling previous seasons had at times with how little narrative throughline there was between the short stories. At the same time, these "appetiser" shorts and occasional cutaways to the supporting cast members during the longer story help them maintain a presence in the viewer's mind. This could merely reflect an improvement in the adapted source material instead of a deliberate choice to rejig things, but it is still welcomed nonetheless.

It would be too harsh on the series to criticise Spy Family for not using such obvious narrative solutions until now. The very premise of the series, with every character keeping secrets and leading double lives, makes it challenging to have complex stories that include all of them simultaneously. While that secrecy is a major source of comedy, it has also made narrative efficiency difficult since it forces many characters into stories that necessarily sideline others. The cruise ship arc does change this by integrating the family in a major story, albeit with Anya and Loid still forced into minor roles, and realising the narrative potential of its premise. This also allows for greater character development in the Forgers as a family unit. Though this season's development is still fairly limited, with Anya being the only character that bridges things between Loid and Yor, it is still a step forward regarding their characters. However, it is still somewhat disappointing that Yor's greater allegiance and relationship to the spy game as a member of an assassin organisation is still left vague. While this information is not particularly important or even helpful in creating more comedy, it does feel like the writer is holding back what should be known to the audience only to draw out a few more scenarios from the mystery later. Although the desire to sustain the longevity of this whole spy premise is understandable or even prudent, it does feel a little cheap with how obvious it is.

In addition, the character growth we do get still felt very by the numbers. The trajectory of the season, and what it sets up for the series as a whole, follows the intuitive path of the Forger's fake family arrangement growing into a genuine one as the characters bond further. While it is being done at a convincing pace, at least by the standards of a show that is mostly a situational comedy, there is also nothing particularly compelling about how this dynamic is portrayed. This is not to say that Spy Family should try to "subvert" expectations with something out of tone or give up their character depth for more situational comedy. Their character work, as it stands now, is competently executed and at the expected depth for a show in its genre. However, it also means that it is hard to give it any additional praise since this is more akin to meeting a hygiene factor than something exceptional. Especially since Spy Family wants to have its cake and eat it when it comes to being both a sitcom and a more plot-driven series.

Spy Family still places a great deal of emphasis on the premise of the series being Operation Strix. Going so far as to have multiple recaps mention the tension between Westarlis and Ostania when they could have been shortened further. This does benefit the series in that the characters and setting have never felt "floaty" or unreal in the sense that they exist merely for comedic situations. There is a larger narrative throughline that ties together the various scenarios into something more coherent and bestows them additional meaning or importance. Even the most preposterous ways of linking things back to Operation Strix have been well used to extract some comedy in the absurdity of it all. However, this has also created a clash in viewer expectations since the series operates mainly like a sitcom but keeps signalling to the audience that its plot has the same importance as those in drama or action shows. This leaves a lot of Spy Family's short stories and situations feeling meandering since they are often only tenuously linked to Operation Strix. Of course, most viewers with even a moderate amount of genre savviness will conclude that the whole spy angle is merely a means to establish a sandbox and create a fun aesthetic for all the stories being told. If not from the art style and opening episodes of the series, then by recognising, consciously or not, that the series functions as a sitcom that aims to maintain the status quo for as long as it serves the comedy. Nevertheless, to have the narrative of the show constantly remind the viewer and pay lip service to Operation Strixs creates the impression that the advancement of the plot is where the meat of the show will come from.

Admittedly, it is difficult to tell if criticism the show gets about failing to advance its plot is made in good faith, given how obvious the show is about its sitcom style and feel-good tone. A lot of this "critique" seems to simultaneously complain about things like the "power level" of characters like Loid and Yor in a comedy of all things. This seems to misunderstand the show, willfully or not, as something closer to a shonen action series where the fighting and stakes are its ostensible draws. Although it is easy to dismiss this as being low-order sophistry meant to masquerade a personal dislike or disappointment as an actual justified opinion, there is still a kernel of truth in that the show does not manage expectations particularly well in this regard. It would be understandable that a viewer still expects Spy Family to operate on a dual track as more of an action comedy that places more importance on furthering its plot than a sitcom or slice-of-life show. The problem is that there are just enough continuous reminders of the goals of Operation Strix to sustain this idea. In this respect, that show does feel like it wants to have the best of both worlds without having the means to execute it since the series relishes in all its tangential stories like a sitcom would despite partially promising otherwise.

In addition, the other elements that would support a plot-driven series, like world-building and character depth, are sorely lacking. While the world of Spy Family being a pastiche of 1950s Cold War Europe is perfectly fine for a sitcom just playing around with that as an aesthetic, it makes for a shallow setting for anything with a plot. The tension between the two nations is nebulous, and there is little functional distinction between East and West, with both sides being capitalistic societies despite Ostania being based on East Germany with its secret police, among other things. One could argue that there is some kind of depth or subtext here, like that the show is attempting to point out that both sides are really the same and equally bad or something to that vague effect. But frankly, that is grasping at straws and giving the show an unwarranted amount of credit. There has been some repeated emphasis this season on former soldiers from an apparent World War 2 analogue, it is frankly still not enough to set up much beyond an interesting tidbit. Combined with the competent but fairly by-the-numbers character development and depth, it is hard to say that Spy Family is poised to do or say anything particularly interesting on its premise of nations in a cold war spying on each other.

Overall, Spy Family is somehow both precisely what is advertised on the tin and not at the same time. It is a well-done and polished sitcom that is easy to recommend, but also nothing particularly exceptional or ambitious when it comes to adding to the genre or blending it with other elements. At the same time, it also suffers from a frustrating habit of talking up its plot as if it is actually attempting to blend a comedy with a spy thriller when the whole espionage and secrecy angle is merely a means to an end for the laughs. The characters are charmingly animated and voiced but also lack any interesting depth beyond what can be anticipated by the audience. While all this still makes for a perfectly entertaining and enjoyable watch, it is hard to score the show more than an 8 out of 10 in its best moments, and for most of the run, a score of 7.5 is more apt. It is perfectly understandable why someone would love Spy Family since it has elements that seem designed to appeal to the widest possible audience and deliver on them. Yet, it seems to be biting off far more than it can chew when it comes to attracting viewers who are more interested in shows for their plots. While there is still room for the show to grow, it seems to be mostly in terms of spectacle and comedy rather than anything particularly intricate in its plot or deep with its characters. Though I will be happily surprised if it does eventually ratchet things up and make good on its constant promises to blend its two ostensible genres together, it will still have taken far too long to reach that point given the expectations it sets up.

As the latest addition to the Digimon franchise, the 02 movie does a solid job of raising new questions and complications about the ideas of the original two series while staying true to the core themes that made Adventure and 02 so special. However, it must be said that this movie fundamentally has Lui as its emotional core, with the original 02 cast functioning as prominent yet ultimately supporting characters. This is not necessarily to the detriment of the show's quality. The emotional punch and themes of the story still remain powerful and are deeply intertwined with the core ideas of Digimon partners and what ... it means to be Digidestined. On the other hand, advertising the movie as a 02 continuation or feature film has created a detrimental expectation that this would centre on the original cast. No doubt this has much to do with the less than positive reception, yet it is somewhat unfair to the movie since that has to do with the context surrounding it instead of its contents. Even then, a significant part of the negative reception ultimately stems from the limitations of attempting to continue the already complete character arcs of the 02 cast. And perhaps, it also speaks to tensions between the audience's memory and expectations of Digimon from their childhood and the more mature and complex ideas it wants to cover now.

The most obvious issue is that while being advertised and titled as a 02 movie, the emotional core of the plot and themes is formed around Lui's story and struggles. Despite being understandably disappointing, there is also little room to manoeuvre in terms of constructing a story primarily around the 02 cast. This is not to say that the completion of their character arcs in the original show precludes them from growing or changing further. However, developing them more as young adults tends to lead to stories more in the vein of the Kizuna movie. These stories end up exploring the consequence of their change instead of being a more traditional narrative of characters facing challenges that prompt their growth. While it does make for a compelling character story, it will naturally revolve less around Digimon fights and external villains and more on introspection and exploring relationships between characters. That likely was not the story the writers wanted or were tasked with telling, and frankly, probably not what the audience desires in Digimon as a franchise.

What we are left with is requiring an external force to drive the plot, which in this case is Lui and his fraught relationship with Digimon. The alternatives to this range from lacklustre to measurably worse than what we have now, which is the 02 cast acting as paragon characters that guide Lui on his own journey with Digimon. A common pitfall that many shows run into is to have their characters regress, only for them to repeat their original arc again. These are often frustrating to see, bordering on character assassination at times, and thankfully is not an issue with this movie. Arguably worse is to have a show with no substance at all, where the plot simply occurs as a vehicle for fluffy character interactions and mindless action. For a franchise as old and nostalgic as Digimon, some amount of this fan service is desirable and even necessary, given that the target audience is primarily existing fans. However, having a movie solely revolving around that would end up lacking most substance and ultimately be a disservice since Digimon is so much more than just juvenile monster fights.

Despite it being understandable why they chose the approach of having Lui be the emotional centre of the story, it could certainly have been handled better. The focus on Lui becomes overwhelming with how little is done to tie back the questions and worries of his situation with Digimon to the original cast. The themes and questions around what it means to have a partner Digimon, the origin of that connection, and the implications of Digidestined growing in number are all interesting expansions and complications of the original ideas in the show. Yet so little time is devoted to having the 02 cast grapple or discuss this when they should have the most to say. The overwhelming presence of Lui continues into how the show's run time is used, featuring not just his relevance to the plot and current emotional conflict but a hefty chunk of his back story. While this is also not necessarily an issue, given the short run time of 80 minutes, it leaves precious few moments for any interaction solely within the 02 cast or time to unpack the many implied questions and themes. It is even more glaring when this is contrasted with the amount of time spent on Digivolution sequences. While nostalgic and appropriately employed, it also highlights how much time is spent on sequences that neither advance the plot nor add any depth in characterisation or themes. Given that these sequences are something of a necessity, there seems to be little way to improve things short of increasing the run time.

Lui's backstory itself is incredibly bleak and dramatic but nonetheless effectively conveyed in the amount of time there is to work with. Perhaps the negative reaction has to do with its degree of predictability, but those arguments often appear rather weak. Lui's story is interesting because it considers the potential implications of having a Digimon partner, questions their origin and roles, and the darker complications of such a relationship. These are logical extensions of a now twenty-year-old premise, and it's only natural that a sequel would take a magnifying glass to its original ideas. Perhaps, then, the primary issue is with Lui's backstory "retconning" other established Digimon media running in the same continuity. However, this is disastrously missing the forest for the trees, given Digimon has hardly been a congruent franchise in terms of plot.

What has united Digimon has primarily been its themes, ideas and focus on characters instead of any profound "lore" about the Digital World. While it is understandable and a bit disappointing that it does not all neatly join into some larger mythos, this seems to be a misunderstanding of the franchise's spirit. The setting has always been malleable and serves the plot and development of the characters. This demand for every franchise to have persistence and intricate worlds seems like a detrimental development in fandom spaces over recent years. One that crushes the importance of thematic connection beneath its heels. It is also ironic that this is a significant point of criticism when recent entries like Tri demonstrate the folly of focusing heavily on worldbuilding since it created a convoluted plot that bears little emotional or thematic meaning.

Ultimately, nothing about Lui's story fundamentally "breaks" the Digimon world. It does bend ideas or reimagine them, but they were in service of a compelling story and interesting themes. Frankly, it is also astounding that those who are upset over the supposed "retcon" have failed to reason that Lui might simply be speaking from his perspective given what he knows instead of it being a "lore" fact. Again, this seems like missing not only the forest for the trees but also the point of a series that has always been about character. The fights, Digivolution, and Digimon partners were all ultimately a metaphor, a tangible extension of a character and their growth. It is a simply but effective means of tying character growth directly to power and progress of the story. While the monster designs and action are still a big draw of the franchise and good entertainment, to desire to accord it primacy is frankly disappointing.

While Digimon has been known for its surprising character depth and tackling of heavy issues, at least by the expectations of a children's show, the predominant memory of Digimon in the minds of fans seems to be its more action-oriented elements. While nothing is wrong with this, it is now in conflict with the fact that the 02 cast has grown up as well and requires stories to age up with them. Unfortunately, it seems that the show's writers were fully aware of this, with how often Daisuke's character is used to circumvent any heavy discussion by just blustering through it. This is appropriate and in character, but the number of times it happens seems to signal that they have little faith that the audience will be patient or interested in exploring the ideas raised or the more profound character responses. All this is ironic given how old 02 is. The primary audience is likely young adults, but the show feels like it does not play strongly to this demographic. This tension is understandably challenging to resolve without resorting to a plot in the vein of the Kizuna movie, where it's one final farewell. But what we get is the 02 movie not quite committing to being a character piece, still focusing heavily on the drama but not quite the substance of it, yet not quite sacrificing this in order to pander to its audience and be a feel-good nostalgia action film.

Personally, I find that Digimon is enduring because of its themes. This movie is intriguing but lacks the full commitment to its ideas to really dig into them. The fights were compelling enough, but in a way that excited the child-like side of me at seeing my favourite characters from the past back in action. Once that wears off, it does not stick with you like it once did, watching it back in the early 2000s on a Saturday morning. In that sense, the lack of focus on the 02 cast was disappointing, not because they failed to be the heroes of the day or control the plot, but because they spent so little time grappling with the tough questions and responding in ways that highlighted their characters. It could have been a chance to show how they have grown up but potentially also grown apart on issues like this. Especially since some of them, like Daisuke and Ken, have taken different life paths. It was also a missed opportunity to have given them access to Jogress Digivolution so early. Unlocking it again could have been the perfect milestone in showing that they accept the changes in their friends they perhaps are only now noticing because of the events of the movie. It might even have been a chance to add more depth to them compared to the original show.

However, with all that being said, the movie is still a compelling watch with coherent and compelling ideas, even if they are not explored to their fullest extent. Even for 02 fans who might be disappointed with the movie not focusing solely on them, there is still plenty to love and a great serving of nostalgia. Those who hold Digimon Tamers as their favourite series might also be pleasantly surprised with the darker themes and aesthetic the movie chooses. But most of all, those like me who are interested in the themes of Digimon, connection, bonds, understanding, etc, will find a lot of emotional punch in Lui's story. Overall, given its negatives are more limitations or missed potential than anything fundamentally wrong with the story, it seems appropriate to give Digimon Adventure 02: The Beginning a 7 out of 10.

My Happy Marriage is an interesting combination of a very shojo-style period romance mixed in with what one might call more typical shonen-esque features that focus on supernatural powers, setting and combat. The show likely finds a large part of its broader appeal, and therefore positive reception, since it does blend the two elements relatively cohesively. Yet this also highlights that the show does not develop or dig down into either of these elements to turn its story into something exceptional, or perhaps even anything above adequate. To an extent, the show does exactly what is described on its metaphorical tin. There is a focus ... on the romance and the growing relationship between our leads. Still, the summary frankly does create the impression that it will be a heavily character driven piece that explores the relationship in depth and within the context of the period it is set in. It leaves out the fact that the supernatural elements, which initially seem like merely a twist or aesthetic flavour, actually play a more significant role in the story. To the point where the plot is driven more by the supernatural setting than character relationships, as one might expect for something more firmly in the romance genre. In forgoing the focus on characters and relationships to broaden its genre, it loses a lot of the character depth that makes shows like this stand out. While it still does have many of the usual shojo hallmarks in its trappings and perspective, it more so ends up combining the pitfalls of that genre/demographic with shallow and some less desirable elements from shonen and action-fantasy shows.

The season adapts the first two web novels of the series, allotting six episodes to each. While the supernatural element is present in both of these stories, there is a distinct expansion of it in the latter half of the series. Although this pivot is not jarring, nor comes out of nowhere, it does feel like it spreads the show's focus and narrative resources too thinly. It leaves neither element enough depth to stand up to any kind of closer consideration once the surface veneer is peeled back. Admittedly this does create an effective perpetual hook since the show alternates between centring around the romance and its associated complications to the setting the supernatural conflict. However, this continual regeneration of interest has more to do with dangling the promise of something more engaging than what is currently happening. Or more specifically put, each time the show focuses on the relationship, it reaches a point close to melodrama that threatens to overwhelm the audience. It is then that the hints of the supernatural elements feel more tantalising and draw the viewer's intrigue. Conversely, when the show reaches a period where it focuses on its underdeveloped setting and power system, it is the glimpses of how this all relates back to the relationships between characters that lead the viewer on. While this could be praised as good structuring of the story and integration of two different genres, it also highlights the inability of each element to stand on its own merit.

In particular, this can be seen in the first half of the season, which focuses more on domestic affairs and the growing relationship between our leads Miyo and Kudo. As much as the story draws on Cinderella and Chujo-hime, its execution does feel intensely melodramatic for a significant amount of its screen time. Part of this is, frankly, what the viewer knowingly signs up for. By contemporary standards, any Cinderella-esque story with an abusive, evil stepmother and half-sister is bound to, at the very least, skirt the territory of melodrama. However, the show is particularly heavy-handed with its framing of Miyo's plight and the unreserved villainy of its antagonist. This is not to say that all villains must be relatable. Far from it. But there should be some level of complexity with how blatant and frequently they behave like this. The show frames them reveling so much in their abuse that it reaches almost comical proportions during the mid-season climax. Despite the few moments where the show changes to their perspective, we receive little insight into how they rationalise their actions. This does not need to set up the now equally cliche idea that all villains are simply misguided or facing their own crisis. But having a glimpse of their thought process, no matter how skewed, emotionally charged, or warped, would have done wonders for their characterisation since no one sees themselves as the villain. Even if their thought process confirms what the audience believes, seeing it is the point and what gives the narrative more weight. It would not have entirely done away with the melodrama, but it would have significantly improved things since we would no longer see them as barely more than caricatures.

It is then remarkable that My Happy Marriage is extremely direct with the framing of other characters. It is already quite clear to the audience that the head of the Tatsuishi family is up to something nefarious, conveyed both by his mannerisms on screen and the delivery of his lines. It feels particularly hamfisted when the show feels the need to reinforce this by having us hear his inner monologue, blatantly spelling out that he is using someone or what his obvious motivations are. This happens to a lesser extent with Kudo, when the mystery about his character and the rumours surrounding him are quickly dispelled. Although any genre-savvy viewer expects this outcome, and it is basically in the show's title as well, it undermines any organic tension they could have built between him and Miyo that would show more of their characters. Their initial characterisation of him from Miyo's perspective was already sufficient in showing the rumours were clear exaggerations. Yet we get very little development on why these rumours exist in the first place since the more prickly elements of Kudo's personality are played up by the narrative yet almost immediately dismissed by changing to his internal monologue. Having not read the source material, it is unclear if this problem of entering various perspectives stems from the web novel. But it seems more likely to be an issue with its adaption since most novels either remain in a single perspective or alternate between certain characters instead of being told from an omniscient point of view.

As a result, there is little mystery in our characters but also little corresponding depth to make up for it. The major missed opportunity is in Koji since he is the only character that has any substantial conflicting goals. Despite ample chances to develop this, he is left pigeonholed as the weak but good-natured love interest who puts Miyo ahead of his own feelings. While there is nothing particularly wrong with this character arc or its conclusion, so little about the conflict is explored or even shown that it makes Koji feel far flatter as a character than he should be. As a result, every character fits into very standard archetypes with little to break the mould, including our protagonist Miyo. Though, it is admittedly strange and conflicting to be searching for more nuance or depth to her, given the extreme treatment she has suffered. In a way, that is simply an inherent limitation of a character in that vein and perhaps feels particularly trite because of the long cultural history of tales like Cinderella and Chujo-hime. There still could have been more done to add depth through her relationship with Kudo, allowing her to grow as a known quantity to the audience while revealing his character. As much as the dynamic between them feels done to death, it could have explored how the difficulty in communicating makes them grow as characters. In the case of Kudo, about how to be less abrasive and more emotive, and for Miyo to muster the courage to be direct when necessary despite all the suffering she has been through. There is an attempt to develop them along this line and some touching moments as a result. Yet so much of it feels less earned than it could have been since the pacing does not show much struggle before a breakthrough is achieved. In fact, much of these moments are achieved through external prompting from other characters, which takes away focus from the relationship and potential depth since we are shown less of the introspection.

Even then, the relationship dynamics are not that interesting due to how typical it is for the period. In some ways this seems like a no-win scenario for a period piece these days. Showing a more modern relationship dynamic tends to break the illusion that this is set in the late Meiji or Taisho era. But on the other hand, it is understandable that the very traditionalist nature of Miyo and Kudo's dynamic, if not off-putting to some people, is simply trite. That being said, there is nothing inherently off-putting about what is being portrayed, though the period setting is doing much of the heavy lifting. It would have been interesting and more so justified the historical setting to explore the norms, pushback and complexity of marriage in that era. And the show does offer an inkling of that when it introduces Hazuki, Kudo's sister, who contrasts Miyo's more traditional outlook with her modern girl attitude. However, little is done with this, and it's more of a footnote before the narrative changes focus to Kudo and its supernatural elements. Perhaps it is an unfair expectation of complexity for a web novel since they are generally focused on genre fiction and have about the same complexity as light novels. It is a large, perhaps even dry by genre standards, topic to cover that is usually the preserve of literary novels or non-fiction. Yet having that depth would be one of the few things that could elevate My Happy Marriage from merely competent to something exceptional.

Perhaps then, the time to dive into the relationship element was lacking because the show has more of a focus on the supernatural elements than expected. Admittedly, when My Happy Marriage introduces its supernatural angle in its second episode, it is a compelling twist. The premise provides a convincing reason why Miyo is at the centre of so much family politics and intrigue while also giving it an element that differentiates the show from more traditional shojo fare. This supernatural, political part of the premise also helps keep the viewer interested despite the heavy-handed melodrama the show opens with. It opens the possibility that the show initial melodrama is due to expediency, that it is a sacrifice meant to rush through basic characterisation to do more interesting things with the premise. Unfortunately, the melodrama of the latter episodes and the general vaguity of the setting and supernatural elements dispel that notion. The supernatural elements like the grotesqueries they fight and the superhuman abilities all suffer from the usual limitations they do in shonen action series. They are ill-defined magic powers that generally operate as the plot demands with little account given to how they would alter the setting. As expected, it is the supernatural elements that drive a wedge later on in the series in Miyo and Kudo's relationship. This is little better than the familiar trope of a "homewrecker" type character in more grounded stories becoming an obstacle the relationship needs to overcome instead of working out their flaws.

Ultimately, the supernatural element serves as mere plot utility and a surface-level aesthetic. As usual, very little thought is paid to how different society would be if there were individuals that could create firestorms at will. Like in its shonen counterparts, it undermines the idea that this is a period piece since the world would look incredibly different if even a single person could shoot lightning. While the show does have the fantasy tag on some websites, it does little to make the historical setting seem like anything beyond an aesthetic. The supernatural and historical elements of the setting may then enable a story like this to be told, but they do little to support it thematically. This is not necessarily a problem, since the setting serving the plot is the norm with most series. However, it is another area where My Happy Marriage does not go further than being adequate. What this results in is that the supernatural elements are not fleshed out on their own, have no thematic connection to the character elements, and serve primarily to drive the plot. On the other hand, you have characters that feel very archetypical, with little depth or nuance to any of them, and a sizable amount of melodrama.

Overall, while My Happy Marriage does have its merits in that it is a moderately effective blend of two genres, it seems to sacrifice much of its depth to achieve this. While there have been similar shows like Inuyasha and Kyoukai no Kanata, they generally succeed in balancing their relationship and plot elements since their general characters have a great deal more agency than Miyo. Here, we have the shojo tendency toward melodrama and its issue with passive protagonist, merged with the common shonen problem of shallow characterisation and over focus on its setting and powers without achieving clarity or them serving any thematic purpose. It is almost the worst of both worlds. Yet the execution of the series was still competent enough, with at least enough subtlety with Kudo's initial portrayal to avoid an incredibly stereotypical impression. Perhaps this speaks more to the strength of combining a supernatural period piece with shojo elements than it does to the actual story of My Happy Marriage. But it is still worth a watch, perhaps more so for those interested in the romance or supernatural element than its historical setting. My Happy Marriage is at best a 6 out of 10, perhaps even closer to a 5.5 at its low moments of heavy melodrama. There is the potential that the adaptation of later books will have more depth as the author finds their footing and digs deeper into their world and characters. But it is still a hard ask to have to go through an entire season or multiple light novels before there is any substantial character work being done.

Insomniacs After School, or Kimisomu, is a solid high school romance drama with a surprisingly decent focus on amateur astronomy. The summary does not quite do it justice since it omits the show's focus on astrophotography as an activity central to its characters and plot. Kimisomu does not merely use the night sky and stars as a shallow aesthetic gimmick but actually dedicates a reasonable amount of time to the subject. Of course, it is still secondary to the focus on the relationship of our leads, but it is an integral part of the show's identity that helps differentiate it from others in the genre. ... That said, it does not quite get technical or focused enough for Kimisomu to be described as a show about astronomy or astrophotography. It still is, more than not, focusing on the relationship of its characters for most of the narrative.

As far as high school romance dramas go, Kimisomu definitely exceeds the quality of an average show in the genre. Yet even though the show excels at creating a mellow and intimate atmosphere when called upon, the overall construction of the narrative and characters are fairly by the numbers. Its greatest strength is probably the focus on the night, with our leads suffering from insomnia and the main activity they undertake being astrophotography. Nighttime scenes are a rarity in high school anime, with the focus mostly on school hours. Part of this is simply because it is rare to be out so late at that age, leading to those scenes often being used for drama. Kimisomu captures the more mellow and quiet side of being out late at night. A sense of calm you cannot find while the sun is up, and that feeling of being the only people awake at the moment with the rest of the world is far away. It leverages this to give scenes either a mellow, contemplative air when characters are silent or really heighten the intimacy of scenes when they connect. Yet the framing of the show can be a little heavy-handed at times with what it wants to convey to the audience, especially with the close-ups of expressions and blushing of the characters. While this is a hallmark of most romance and dramas, it comes on a little too strong with how early in the show it begins when the leads have barely met and with how frequently it is used. It serves to build romantic tension but can feel a little inorganic when used too often. The plot is on the idealised side of the high school experience, but it is still handled with enough grounding that it never comes off as fantastically juvenile. It succeeds in creating a fun origin story for their astronomy club, with the idea of having one's own private space at school in the form of their observatory clubhouse being incredibly cosy.

While falling squarely in mostly standard archetypes, the cast is still well-written, well-acted, and well realised, giving them an appropriate level of depth and believability. The male lead and primary perspective character, Nakami, probably has the most depth out of the cast. While the surface-level explanation for his irritability and insular tendencies is his insomnia, plenty more is going on beyond that. We eventually see much more of Nakami and how he is actually a rather passionate person who feels strongly about things he comes to care about it. There is a good deal of subtly how it is shown to the audience, with his more emotive side coming out gradually. Particularly through the early episodes with how he takes the astronomy club seriously even though most other people would have done the bare minimum needed to maintain their clubhouse. But as the series progresses, we see the more painful side of his emotional attachment and how it relates to his insomnia and overall character. While exploring the tension in someone who is outwardly reserved but extremely passionate on the inside is interesting, it often results in instances which feel like melodrama. Nakami's outbursts or emotive reactions do align with what the narrative and character work sets up. However, it still contrasts so heavily with his reserved side that it sometimes feels like overacting. In a few cases, his reaction felt so extreme that it even breaches the audience's suspension of disbelief. Though the show always manages to recover from this with ample breathing room in the more mellow and intimate scenes that follow, it still feels like more restraint would have created a far better grounded show.

On the other hand, Magari is a much more straightforward character and can even feel a little shallow at times since she falls squarely into character archetypes that frequently appear in anime. While there is little groundbreaking with the cheery, upbeat character that hides her sadness and anxiety to avoid inflicting it on her friends, it is still written with enough nuance and unique elements to give the series something deeper to explore. Even with many by the numbers character elements, or maybe because of it, Magari is highly endearing and is easy for the audience to be fond of. In particular, despite this being her first major role, Tamura Konomi's performance is excellent at capturing Magari's bubbly personality. There is always a risk that characters meant to be highly affable, like Magari, end up lacking flaws which severely detracts from their depth and believability. She does skirt close to this at times, but the audience eventually gets to see a bit of her more reckless and selfish side that dispels the worry. It is still relatively minor and only marginally explored, it is sufficient to give her a convincing level of at least potential depth. While perhaps not a completely realised character just yet, she is incredibly charming with a

Despite the contrast between her and Nakami, there is still a great deal of chemistry between them. Even though the earnest girl drawing the reserved boy out of his shell is a well-trodden dynamic in anime, it is a classic for a reason. And in Kimisomu, it is well executed with that added connection of both of them sharing the difficulty of their insomnia. While they share this common experience and find some respite in each other's presence, surprisingly little is actually directly discussed about their insomnia between them. There is the potential to add significant depth to their relationship, but that can only be realised once they delve more into the causes of their insomnia and how they help each other through it. The physical aspects of their insomnia, like their ability to go about their day while sleep deprived, are also never really brought up after the first few episodes. It makes it hard to feel the magnitude of their impact on each other's well-being beyond just being generally positive. There is improvement in Nakami's sociability with others as the series progresses, but that is more of a development on the conventional character front than being shown to be directly related to his insomnia. However, given the severe origins of their problems, it is probably more organic and convincing to have them only take small tacit steps towards this throughout the season. Being able to address it so quickly would have felt rushed and curtailed any future season's ability to dig into it more. The connection of their insomnia to astrophotography is primarily thematic since it is done to keep their club afloat rather than something they choose to do together since they cannot fall asleep. While that is mildly disappointing, Kimisomu does excel in capturing the feeling of astrophotography and stargazing in how introspective and even solitary it can feel. This is more so the case with the scenes of Shinomaru since she does her photography alone, and the framing really accentuates how small you feel against the vastness of the sky. It provides an excellent thematic contrast between the tranquillity of choosing to be awake in the dead of night for astrophotography and the anxiety or even terror of being forced to remain awake because of insomnia.

The supporting cast goes a long way in ensuring that Nakami and Magari's relationship does not feel like it exists in a bubble. Like our leads, most of the supporting cast tends to fall into fairly standard character archetypes, though still very competently executed. The most interesting member of the supporting cast is probably Shinomaru, though she does not get that involved with our leads despite being set up as their peer mentor. Given how she was established, it is disappointing that she does not have a more direct role in the story after teaching Nakami the basics of astrophotography. Shinomaru is an interesting contrast to Nakami as a more introverted person who is satisfied with the significant time she spends in solitude. But this comparison with Nakami, who clearly desires more connection with people despite his introversion, is still only implicit at this stage. With the current narrative focusing squarely on Magari and Nakami's relationship, it does not help with fleshing out either lead's character from other angles. The rest of their friends in the supporting cast face a similar issue of being relatively standard characters with minimal depth. What little is given is not delivered particularly well, especially in the case of Kanikawa, where her parents tell it directly to the rest of the cast and audience. Prior to that, there was actually some fairly organic and subtle development, but it was unfortunately abandoned for a clumsy direct approach. While Kanikawa risked being unlikeable and even petulant at times, it is saved by Lynn's voice acting than writing that deepened her characterisation. Anamizu, on the other hand, saw her character background better conveyed, but it was still a bit too on the nose with how literally show not tell was done, to the point where it felt blatant. Even if the stereotypical tomboy and mildly spoilt princess types are characterisations that lack any particular depth, they are least conveyed to the audience coherently and convincingly.

On the other hand, Ukegawa does not quite fit into any particular character archetype but, at the same time, seems to lack depth because of that. Given there are no established shortcuts to characterise him, little more is known about him from the start of the season to the end of it. While Ukegawa in that sense is a refreshing change from the usually very rough way male characters are depicted to support each other, it also means that he has very little depth to him at this juncture. Like most of the supporting cast, we know about his general character and some smaller quirks but not how it came about, any potential contradictions within it or specific reactions to certain things. The inclusion of Haida as something of an antagonist feels distinctly out of place here since Kimisomu is ostensibly aimed at the seinen audience. Although not quite a character that is an outright bully or something so childish and direct, he still feels like a cheap and quite juvenile way to antagonise Nakami for some drama. This is mainly due to the lack of any follow-up on any of the differences between them. Nakami neither loosens up after considering Haida's actions as merely a difference in personality instead of antagonism, nor does he reject Haida's suggestions as being something that is just not who he is. At this juncture, it feels like a character element that is left almost entirely hanging. Of course, some of this is understandable since Kimisomu is adapted from a manga that does not arrange its story or character arcs to fit within the confines of a season. That said, it begins to feel like perhaps too little was done with the supporting cast despite the focus on our leads paying off quite well in other areas.

Overall, Kimisomu is a solid drama romance, with the highlights being the nighttime atmosphere it excels at creating and some incredibly sweet and tender moments between our leads. Despite performing well above the average show when everything is put together, it is hard to give it an exceptionally high rating with how archetypical and even shallow some characters can sometimes feel and the occasional slide into melodrama. But personally, I found the atmosphere to be particularly powerful because of my own experiences with amateur astrophotography. That and the resonance with how the characters described their anxiety preventing them from falling asleep really elevated the show on an emotional level. While my personal rating is probably slightly beyond an eight, objectively, Kimisomu is likely closer to a 7.5 out of 10, though leaning towards the higher end. Hopefully, the show does well enough to warrant a follow-up season that can help rectify some of its flaws since they are largely to do with a lack of depth instead of them being core issues with how the series is constructed.

Mobile Suit Gundam: The Witch From Mercury is a visually excellent sci-fi action show but suffers from its incredibly ill-defined world. The usual Gundam charm and polish with mech combat can only make up so much for the vagueness of its political and societal structures. As an ironic consequence, despite Gundam being considered a sci-fi classic that has stuck to the harder end of that spectrum, it is difficult for a viewer in that demographic to enjoy WFM. While the characters are certainly brought to life with fantastic voice acting and dramatic moments, it is hard to be sold and invested in them when the ... context they make their decisions in is so poorly explained or even convoluted at times. It constantly takes the viewer out of their suspension of disbelief because much of the world the characters interact with as core parts of the plot is never properly defined. There is this constant lip service to how complex or multi-layered all this corporate politics and economic oppression is, but never an actual exploration or even basic explanation. It is frankly more frustrating than a botched dive into it or having a more simplistic scenario. In those cases, there is at least an attempt to address or deliver on what was promised. Understandably, some viewers can be entertained solely by the drama and characterisation alone. But it is hard to call it good science fiction or even a Gundam series after it has deliberately brought up complexities in its world and narrative yet fails to explore them and leaves them as only cheap aesthetic window dressing. The only saving grace of the series is then the characters but they can only make up so much for things since they are ulimately beholden in believability to the setting.

Any interesting plot developments or meaningful actions by our characters affecting things rely on comprehending the political, economic and social structures they interact with. This might all sound incredibly cerebral and too complex, even for sci-fi or Gundam. But it really is just a formal and systematic way of saying that we need to understand, at least in the broad strokes, who is interacting with what, what powers they have, and what any of it means in relation to their objectives. Illustrating this point, we find out only after 19 episodes that there is an entity called the Space Assembly League. This sounds like some kind of traditional government institution. They appear to have authority and power over the Benerit Group. And at the very least, they clearly are a powerful and highly centralised organisation with how even a section of their armed forces is seen to be threatening to the Benerit Group. This is a major issue since WFM has been giving the impression for one and a half seasons that its world is some kind of corporate-controlled future where they run amuck and do as they please. The sudden departure from that is an issue since it shatters the already paper-thin safety net of the viewer being able to take it for granted that the Benerit Group controlled most things as a mega-corporation and that the series was a consequence of that.

It raises an incredible number of questions as to the nature of the conflict throughout the series, and the themes or ideas the show is attempting to comment on or explore. Namely, if the Benerit Group was always subject to a higher authority, how do they have so much power? Corporate capture of government institutions is a very real phenomenon and would be a sufficient explanation while also being an interesting point to explore. But the relationship between the two entities is barely brought up, much less explained in even a basic sense. The audience has no idea if the SAL is a traditional government entity representing the people of the Fronts (space colonies) or if their delegates only represent corporations. This distinction is important since it changes the nature of the show's world and themes. The latter would be more of an exploration into what a world run at the behest of corporations looks like, while the former explores corporate influence and control over a government and its consequences. Similarly vague is even the broad strokes of the political structures on Earth. When Minorine goes to negotiate to end the hostilities between the two sides in the wake of the attack on Plant Quetta, it is revealed she is not talking to government representatives on Earth when one of them tells her to leave the deals up to the politicians. This is mind-boggling since it raises so many questions about what authority or power these people from Earth would have to stop the fighting. And it seems like WFM is even dimly aware of how botched its world's coherence is since it does not even bother mentioning a cursory title or designation for these people like most other shows would. Instead of briefly naming them as representatives, a mayor, or even a CEO if they wanted to double down on this being a corporate world, they give no hints as to what positions they hold. Yet the viewer cannot even take it for granted that these are community leaders who deal with the Benerit Group since no other political institutions exist in this world. They directly mention the existence of conventional politicians elsewhere. Instead of giving intuitive cursory answers and letting the viewers fill in the blanks on their own, WFM only raises more questions. This can only be explained by incompetence or negligence when planning out the world, or as another deliberate attempt to create a complex and politically dramatic appearance without putting in the effort.

Even the Earthian-Spacian split fails to be a compelling motivator of the conflict because it is arbitrary and ill-defined, even after two full seasons. The main issue is that because this is not a traditional political conflict, we cannot take it for granted that the two sides hold animosity toward each other because of their differing allegiance. Again the lack of any explanation of the political situation has come back to undermine this. It is never made clear if the Earth and the Fronts are in some kind of political union or if it is a colonialist type situation. So we lack even that as a means for inferring the implicit goals of the Earthians, be it independence, autonomy, or a more just and equitable union of the Earth sphere. What we are left with appears as more of a class conflict. Yet the writers treat the issue as something more akin to a difference of ethnicity which is inherent to a person and affects their outward appearance in obvious and distinguishable ways. This is a significant issue since there is no difference between them besides economic means. There is no meaningful or even visible cultural difference between Earthians and Spacians, with them seeming to both be heterogeneous groups. And no inherent differences would necessarily distinguish themselves from other humans, like with Newtypes or Coordinators. What is left is that the only distinction is their place of birth. Hypothetically, someone born on Earth but raised by Spacians in a wealthy environment would realistically have zero allegiance to an Earthian identity. If this were a conflict drawn on class lines, most people in this situation of adoption would be defenders of the status quo since they benefit from it and have entirely different mannerisms because of their upbringing. Yet the characters of WFM treat the birthplace of someone as an overarching determinant without any comprehensible explanation. An eye-watering highlight from this is that if we were not told Shaddiq was part Earthian, the viewer would have no way to discern that. It renders the distinction unconvincing and shallow as a means motivator of conflict. It is a primarily class conflict, yet it is written as if it was related to race and ethnicity. And even then it is done without any particular depth and serves as a poor allegory for one.

It cannot even be said that the viewer holds an unfair expectation of the complexity of the series. WFM continuously brings up and hints at complexity and complication in its world, like with the vague statement that corporations created 'war partitioning' for their own benefit, but never explains or explores any of it. WFM provokes the viewer to see its world as complex, warranting the drama it derives from the heavy themes it covers, yet not only fails to deliver but absconds from the responsibility to back up any of these hintings with some substance. It is perfectly acceptable for a series to have a simple, closer to black and white conflict for the sake of focusing narrative time and resources on characters with their more personal stakes and drama. The problem is that WFM constantly holds up the pretence that it is a complex, multi-layered conflict while lacking the actual depth to do so. In fact, it is incredulous how little exposition there is in this series despite the multiple deliberate attempts the series makes to complicate and layer issues on top of each other. Many other series, some Gundam ones included, stumble into the pitfall of relying too much on exposition to explain the complexities of the politics behind their worlds. But at the very least they provide the viewer with some understanding of the conflict. Without that, it is hard to see any of the fighting our characters are put through as having some meaning, or even cause, beyond just being for the sake of entertaining spectacle. Even if WFM wishes to evade its Gundam name and the legacy that comes with it when it comes to viewer expectation, it still draws heavily on many ideas from the series. This is a hallmark of Gundam at this point, and it is interesting to see a new riff or adaptation of what are now classic Gundam elements. Yet it is hypocritical to say that WFM cannot be compared to Gundam standards when it benefits from so many of their ideas. The most obvious thing it adapts is Prospera Mercury being a Char clone through and through with all the motivations and plot consequences archetypical to this character type. It is unfair to say that WFM must address in depth all Gundam themes to a tee because of this legacy. After all, each series is its own unique entity which have differing level of focus on different aspects of Gundam. Yet they cannot say they are a part of the series and choose to do away with explaining politics on some level, especially after they keep voluntarily bringing up how complex and central it is to the setting.

In this, it is almost possible to call WFM an abject failure since it does not deliver on its promise and squanders its potential. We get no exploration on anything unique to a world where corporations are in control. Nothing about the dangers of corporate overreach or exploitation despite it being touted as a major flashpoint throughout the series on Earth. And nothing about the perils of the military-industrial complex and how that relates back thematically to meta-tension in Gundam of mobile suits being cool of the audience yet also weapons of war. The little lip service we get of this is related almost entirely to the Ariel and the datastorm technology instead of the more grounded questions with mass-produced mobile suits. It leaves it all with the distinct impression that the corporate setting surrounding the Benerit Group and the economic oppression of Earth are nothing more than aesthetics. It is the aesthetics of a serious issue that is used to make the series appear deeper than it really is. A veneer to add gravity and drama to events without doing any the work to explore its causes or ramifications. For emphasis, WFM is constantly flaunting these themes and elements to the viewer instead of it being an unfair adult expectation placed on a juvenile action show. The failure to then satisfactorily explore this, even if it is just on the surface with only notional answers, is a major issue that detracts from things. It is an incredibly blatant failure in managing audience expectations.

The only saving grace is then the show's characters, which are charming and exceedingly well voice-acted. The opening of many of the character mystery boxes has greatly eased WFM's reliance on uncertainty to create character drama. Though it still reveals how most characters have not grown so much as finally being shown to the audience and understood. Guel and Chuchu were still the highlights of the series again as the few characters with any real depth or different facets to them. It is obvious by now that this is a consequence of using an overwhelming number of character mystery boxes. A character cannot be developed if so much of their past and motivations remain hidden, which limited a vast majority of growth to Chuchu and Guel since they were the only real known quantities to the audience. They are the only ones that can have a change of character while the rest have 'reveals' of them. This even applies to Suletta, who is functionally a pawn with little agency until the final episodes of the season. While her character arc and story are still compelling enough, especially helped by Ichinose Kana's fantastic performance, having a character that the plot essentially happens to until the last moment does not make for an ideal protagonist. It is still serviceable, but it contributes in no small part to Guel feeling like the story's actual protagonist since he is put through the most conflict. This amount of choice and ramifications is usually reserved for the story's protagonist with how much growth and agency he receives. This is more of a structural issue than anything particularly wrong with the characters, but it does create this issue of audience expectation since Suletta's perspective is better suited to a different genre of show. There are some attempts to develop what would probably be considered tertiary characters like Martin and Lauda. But given how little time is spent with them with their initial characterisation and how quick the build-up is, it either feels flat, like in the case of Martin or rushed to the point of melodrama with Lauda.

This comes back to a large overall pacing and tone issue that seems to plague the series. Past Gundam series have had far longer continuous runs, and it feels like WFM is suffering from having only 24 episodes to tell an entire Gundam story that usually runs for roughly double the length. It leads to it feeling like an abridged version of Gundam with a particularly tropey cast in how much their personality is exaggerated to speed up characterisation. In fact, this might also explain why so little has been developed about the larger politics of the series. Though instead of dialling it back, they still tried to have their cake and eat it too. The pacing issue and general time squeeze only really highlight itself with how little Minorine actually interacts with Suletta this season. The major flashpoint between them feels melodramatic with how little build-up it receives and the severity of their outburst. While it is appropriate to a degree for teenagers to react that emotively, it could certainly have done with more time to breath. The tonal whiplash of going from the Plant Quetta attacks, a seemingly paradigm-shifting event, back to attempting to play school heavily stretches believability. This seems like a consequence of having a two-season format which necessitated a climax midway even though the series had not finished what it wanted to do with Astacasia as a setting. It really does feel like another instance of wanting it both ways, having a dramatic conflict yet continuing to play around in the school setting indefinitely. To the show's credit, it is far more gruesome than usual with its depictions of the cost of war. And appropriately, it has some outstanding moments with how hard it is for characters like Guel and Chuchu to return to playing war in their duelling after seeing real combat. Yet a lot of this bloodshed has this distinct undertone of feeling like cheap shock value at times because of how incoherent the world is.

Overall, Witch From Mercury feels incredibly botched in how vague its world is. While charming and lively, the characters can only take the series so far. Their believability is linked to the world they inhabit, and that element is constantly being eroded with every reminder of how vague it is and the needless complications of it without answers. And it feels like the world of WFM is almost irreparably damaged with how long it has gone without being properly explained. The entire premise of the Benerit Group feels like a cheap aesthetic choice with little merit. With how little they cover themes about corporations, it would have been better to stick to it being a world with more conventional political organisation. In fact, if the Astacasia School was a peacekeeper training academy, it might have made it feel far less out of place than some corporate high school. It is hard to recommend this despite WFM still being entertaining enough with its action and quirky characters. There is a lot to like, and will probably appeal to viewers less interested in the sci-fi's more cerebral or abstract aspects. But it is hard to say it is a good representative of the Gundam series with how little it cares about its themes, though it is definitely better than the average in terms of its character. Perhaps too much time was sacrificed from other elements for that. Given it is frustratingly vague and even vapid but still at least functionally entertaining as a story, a 5 out of 10 rating seems appropriate.

It is entirely understandable why a viewer looking primarily for cool fights and character drama for entertainment would like WFM. In that, the show has succeeded. I would recommend it as a digestible modern taster of the Gundam aesthetic and themes, though not as an archetypical representative of the series as a whole. But for viewers like myself who would like something more thematically interesting to chew on and think about, it hard to recommend it with how impossibly vague it is. Especially because WFM quite blatantly promised that to us yet did not deliver. It makes one wonder if it really just misses potential at times or deliberately stringing a major part of the usual Gundam audience along with the hopes of a political explanation.

Skip and Loafer is an excellent, down-to-earth story that focuses on a coming-of-age tale with some drama and romantic comedy. It is rare to find a show about high school that plays it straight without resorting to gimmicks or wacky scenarios to try and differentiate itself. Regardless of successful execution, those other shows end up distancing the story from what is plausible in reality. Unlike Skip and Loafer, these fantastical narratives lose much of their ability to explore more mundane themes and experiences that ordinary people face in their own lives. Yet instead of believing it needs to make up for the lack of gimmicks ... with melodrama, the show finds strength in the sincerity of a girl's journey through high school while balancing her ambitions, studies and relationships. It creates a narrative that exudes a sense of lightness and optimism, which makes for a charming story that sincerely covers themes about high school that are true to life.

Like most shows set in the mundane, contemporary world, it focuses on the characters and their circumstances instead of being driven by some dramatic, complex plot. The cast is excellently written, with their lines and voice acting exaggerated ever so slightly to be entertaining while still keeping the behaviour and personalities within the realm of believability for real life. There is ample room left for nuance and subtly in the more dramatic or tense moments, though the framing of the more comedic ones is still a little direct at times. It is an achievement in its own right that Skip and Loafer has characters that could convincingly be a real classmate someone could have encountered in high school. Albeit someone a little quirky and more interesting than the average person. Much of this is achieved by having the characters take the social situations they are in seriously but also having them reflect on them once the heat of the moment has passed. This keeps everything in proportion, avoiding a descent into melodrama as the characters are aware enough to laugh at how emotionally consumed they were when they acted. Yet it also preserves the value of these situations since the drama is maintained as the genuine response of the characters instead of making it appear like it is done for the benefit of entertaining the audience. These elements are essential for any show that wants to play its contemporary setting straight while maintaining the believability of the characters.

Our lead, Iwakura Mitsumi, is an excellent viewpoint to explore the themes that come with high school, being someone who has set lofty goals yet is also an outsider to a big city school with a large student body. She combines just the right amount of earnestness, awkwardness, and neurotic overthinking to make her endearing to the audience. Kurosawa Tomoyo is fantastic at playing characters with this personality and gives an excellent performance, capturing both the anxiety and eagerness in the character. Mistumi's background, coming from the countryside to the city, really accentuates her character with her wonderment at the urban lifestyle. While it is used to play up her more socially inept side, never having dealt with so much social politicking with her peers in a tight-knit country town, it also reinforces one of the show's core themes. There is a constant strain on her time with the fast pace of city life, having to manage her studies, extracurriculars, and her social connections. Most other shows in high school all centre around only one aspect of this, either on the club element if they are covering a particular activity or the social aspect if they are a drama/rom-com. Despite being an almost stereotypical fixture of schooling in Japan and Asia, Skip to Loafer is surprisingly one of the few shows that even deals with academic goals in a genuine manner. While it is an interesting theme to tackle and makes Mitsumi and her peers feel much more like real people who would be concerned about grades, maybe so few shows cover this because it feels a bit too true to life. After all, it strikes a bit close to home to be reminded of studies when watching entertainment. Yet it is essential for the story Skip and Loafer wants to tell and does wonders for being able to relate to the characters since it never feels like the show is glossing over an essential part of the student experience.

Seeing Mitsumi sleep deprived and biting off more than she can chew really drives home what it is like to be a high school student who wants to achieve it all. The show handles this aspect well, always ensuring to keep the problem of managing their studies and time visible even when they take a backseat to relationships for a bit. It creates this sense of a consistent challenge that rears its head and drags Mitsumi back to reality whenever she becomes too consumed in her social or extracurricular pursuits. Being such a core aspect of being a student, the various ways the characters attempt to manage this and their motives for it reflects on them, and by extension, Mitsumi, who tries to find her own solution. The other characters respond to the constant workload by creating intricate schedules that maximise efficiency or by simply resigning themselves to indifference about their performance as long as they pass. Their motives for working hard also vary widely, with some seeing it as their responsibility as students and to themselves for their future, or simply as a means to increase their social standing. Mistumi's consideration and reaction to all of this makes for an interesting exploration of this idea while feeling natural. The path she chooses to take in the end tells us about what she values and how far she can or even should adapt from her life in the country.

The thematic elements to do with the countryside thus far have felt under-explored, even though the show successfully connects much of Mitsumi's personality to her upbringing. Skip and Loafer does avoid the pitfall of having her country girl aspect being nothing but a shallow quirk that is only paid lip service to and quickly forgotten about. While Mitsumi does return to the Noto Peninsula during her summer break, it feels much more like an interlude than anything that really drives her characterisation forward. Part of this is due to the implicit contrast between city and country life, with how much slower-paced and carefree it is, creating this feeling of a purely slice-of-life interlude when she returns owing to how little actually happens. The return and other vignettes/flashbacks to her time in Ishikawa does effectively maintain the idea that her hometown is important to her with their consistency. Yet, with how little has been dug into the theme of rural decline or even the broad strokes of Mitsumi's dream/plans to do with it, it raises the question of if runtime was used as efficiently as it could have been. Still, it is refreshing to have a story where moving to the city is not a way to escape the countryside and forget about it but is seen as an opportunity to improve things at home. While P.A. Works has covered the topic of rural decline in more depth in Sakura Quest, where it was one of the central focuses, it is still poised to be an interesting secondary theme and convincing motivator for Mitsumi in Skip and Loafer.

Supporting Mitsumi, the rest of the cast is just as strongly written and helps to reinforce her characterisation with how their personalities play off and compare to hers. The show here is exceedingly strong in bouncing fluidly between the various characters' perspectives and giving glimpses into their inner thoughts. This is primarily a strength of manga as a medium, but it has been translated well to animation. The internal narration from the supporting cast is appropriate to the moments they are in when we switch to their perspective. It tells us enough for the audience to grasp the depth and nuances of their character and what drives them behind their outward-facing persona. Yet it avoids the pitfall many other shows make by having their character internally monologue their background and deeper motivations even though nothing in the situation would provoke those thoughts. It strikes the right balance to give us meaningful insight about the characters to bring them to life without giving away too much at inappropriate times or being hamfisted in its delivery. Even though they are supporting characters in what is ultimately Mitsumi's story, the cast never feels like they exist in a bubble. Another pitfall that Skip and Loafer deftly avoids is the feeling that the supporting cast exists only in relation to the leads or their school. The inclusion of small moments where characters talk about their past in junior high and still remain connected to their friends from that time really bring Skip to Loafer's world to life. It eliminates the feeling that they exist only to interact with the protagonist and that they have lives of their own that would continue without Mitsumi or even the viewer.

The most interesting supporting cast member is probably Egashira, who occasionally acts as a half-hearted antagonist to Mitsumi. She is a realistic departure from the characters in most anime being designed to have their appearance match their personality, at least in the broad strokes. While Egashira presents herself as agreeable and dainty with her fashion choices, it is very much for a deliberate social effect that goes far beyond self-expression. It reinforces how Skip and Loafer stays true to life in that people have limited control over their appearance and rarely choose to deliberately appear antagonistic. Having everyone behave exactly as their metaphorical tin label suggests may be expedient, but it often comes at the cost of believability in other shows. From this idea of appearances being only a partial reflection of someone, we get plenty of depth from Egashira. She cultivates the image of a sweet and confident person, yet has a scathing, calculating, and ultimately insecure internal dialogue. It gives her a chance to surprise the audience when her actions and inner motivations occasionally match what is supposed to be just a facade, and we see real sweetness as she slowly feels more secure with other characters. Some degree of having a book match its cover is still appropriate in characters like Kurume. Her appearance is one of less effort compared to other characters and reflects her scorn for what she sees as substanceless vanity and how appearances are usually exploited by those blessed with them. On the other hand, it is refreshing not to immediately pigeonhole Murashige, the stereotypical modelesque girl, as the antagonist of the series by making her a shallow love rival simply because she is attractive. It is the interesting other side of the coin for appearances not being indicative of someone's character, with Yuzuki being a friendly and understanding person from the start. All this serves to make the supporting cast both endearing and gives them a convincing level of depth to explore.

Finally, coming to our male lead, while much of the praise received by the rest of the cast also applies to Shima, his background as a former child actor feels far too dramatic at times. Compared to everyone else's fairly ordinary lives, his personal history feels the closest to coming to a gimmick meant to dramatise things. It feels jarring against the initial grounded tone of the show when it is introduced after the first episode. Though to the credit of the series, it never becomes overbearing or compromises the show's other elements. It does descend close to, or even dip into, melodrama at some points, especially regarding Ririka and Shima's past acting days. There are interesting places to go with Shima's character, and his backstory suggests a great deal of depth to his character, yet this season has explored so little of it. And at the moment, the hints about a more dramatically tragic past and the direction the story will take with it feel wrought with potential for going over the top. While that does not preclude Skip and Loafer from handling it well, thus far, the situation of his past coming back to haunt him has felt melodramatic with how little it involves Mitsumi or anyone else in the main cast. It creates the feeling that it is a problem inflicted by a third party in order to "spice things up" instead of having it be a more natural crisis of his internal conflict boiling over. With how much of the show is driven by characters discovering each other while learning to deal with and accept the flaws they find, it feels like a cheap way to direct the problem outside of this dynamic onto a lightning-rod character to serve as the antagonist. While it does create a dramatic climax and break the status quo within Shima to allow for character growth, it feels forced and less organic than what could have been the internal unravelling of his outward persona.

The mystery box that is Shima's character does feel a little out of place in a series where the rest of the cast are largely known quantities. It does explain some things that were slightly off with Shima, like his voice acting lacking that bite that makes for a visceral performance. The only time it breaks from this is during an internal monologue we get late into the season from him, which sounds far more natural and full of emotion. While this could be down to a directing decision, meant to aid in his characterisation as a soft-spoken person and deal with the theme of an actor not being sure where the character ends and his self begins,
it makes his performance feel particularly floaty and even weak at times. It also pushes the show away from its ostensible seinen or josei framing to one closer to shoujo. Shima feels like the stereotypical mild, soft-spoken yet brooding and mysterious love interest and does little to break the mould at the moment. This is not necessarily a problem, but it runs counter to the expectations established by how straightforward the rest of the narrative is and it's very mature emphasis on gradual communication as a way to connect with people. The small snippets we get of Shima's past do make his reluctance to open up, even to Mitsumi, highly convincing. However, it only thematically supports the characterisation and depth of the other cast members instead of interacting more directly with them. While the implicit contrast between Shima and Mitsumi suggests that her earnestness is what he needs for him to grow beyond his past, there is not enough done with that before the situation implodes itself. Again, this is not necessarily a problem, and there is still plenty to explore in a second season. Still, it feels like a more gradual and down-to-earth opening up and discovery of Shima that would have made for fantastic character scenes were sacrificed for a dramatic climax.

As a result of this, while the series has convincingly sold the viewer on a strong friendship between Mistumi and Shima with plenty of chemistry, whether it can convincingly be a romance is still up in the air. Because of how asymmetrical the relationship is with Shima holding all his secrets, the audience still needs to be convinced of his feelings. At the moment, all the romantic tension feels distinctly juvenile since it is mostly a mixture of gestures that could be misinterpreted as being more than they are meant to be, or born out of affection that a more mature person could still reasonably see as intense but platonic. While this heightened sensitivity and overthinking about romantic connotations is fitting for high school, what Skip and Loafer needs to meet its expectations and go beyond most romances is to show how meaningful and intense their connection is. And that requires the characters to open up in a more mature manner and grow into their relationship instead of the typical one-off high school confession. But that can be developed further down the line, and it is unfair to hold against a first season that is meant to establish the scenario. And with Skip and Loafer being the story of Mistumi's experience in school instead of Mitsumi's experience in love, it is reasonable for it to remain only one of the main elements in the show instead of its primary focus.

Overall, Skip and Loafer is an excellent coming-of-age story that deals with high school in a rare genuine and down-to-earth manner. It does not seek to embellish the experience for the sake of drama and entertainment, giving us characters that feel just as real as anyone a viewer might know. While some elements, like Shima's background, feel a bit tropey at times, the series more than makes up for it in other areas. While Skip and Loafer has plenty of merits as a stand-alone season, it seems better poised to be the strong introduction that supports a second season since it has left a lot unexplored, crucially with its male lead. There is some worry that Skip and Loafer will lose traction with audiences like many other more realistic anime since it hinges on investment in the characters instead of some readily marketable trope to keep more juvenile audiences on board. Hopefully, the quality will continue to speak for itself, with Skip to Loafer being a strong 8 out 10 at minimum. It is hard to give it a 9 at this juncture because it has yet to explore Shima's character in depth. While I like the characters and Kurosawa Tomoyo's performance as Mitsumi in particular, I did not make this very personal emotive connection to them. Ultimately that final push is highly subjective, but it is not hard to see how someone who found the characters leaping from their screen would rate this even higher or have this as one of their all-time favourites.

The reimagining of Cucuruz Doan's Island from an episode of the original MSG to a movie is a solid adaptation, albeit a little conflicted in its tone and goals. Following the Origin continuity of the One-Year War, the movie attempts to give wider importance to the events in this originally self-contained story. However, the magnitude of the consequence is so great that it creates a great deal of tension with the many light-hearted and comedic moments.

Although Gundam has developed a reputation over the decades for being a more dramatic series that strongly emphasises the pain and cost of conflict, the original series was sometimes incredibly ... campy. It was a product of many factors, probably the most significant two being the time it was made and the goals of the series sponsors for Gundam to be a vehicle to sell toys, therefore requiring it to be perceived as kid friendly. While there are plenty of serious and dramatic battles throughout MSG, it is arguably not until the White Base leaves Jaburo and returns to space that the more mature tone becomes dominant in the show. Prior to that, there was always the presence of Katz, Letz and Kikka, as well as the many interlude episodes that centre around comedic scenarios. While that can be seen as a weakness of MSG, Doan's Island faithfully follows this tone. The movie mixes the more light-hearted moments of life on the island/White Base with the more serious combat scenes or discussions of the war. While there is tension in the tone of these two elements, it is not impossible to reconcile and have it serve a narrative purpose. After all, Doan's story is about a soldier who gave up fighting because he could not bear the collateral damage he inflicted on innocent people. The implicit contrast of the war going on to the children's antics has a strong thematic bite throughout the film.

Yet, because the story cannot be satisfied with being self-contained, it overplays its hand with how much tonal contrast the show can take. Choosing to tie the events of Doan's island back to the larger events of the One-Year War is a fun bit of fan service, but it gives the whole show a distinct feeling of mismatch. What could have been a smaller scale, endearing story like the original, a snippet into the consequences of the war on innocents, is now burdened with being a pivotal point in the wider war. The stakes are increased by giving the island greater strategic importance to the conflict, ultimately bringing the Zeon forces back to it and creating the climax of the show. The impression alone is that the creators of this adaptation were not confident in the story's emotional punch without war-altering stakes being involved. But the more concrete issue is that almost none of the main cast is aware of the strategic purpose of the island and the threat it poses. The character tension for Amuro and the White Base crew centres solely around the mobile suit combat and if they can prevail. This leaves the larger strategic threat feeling like it is just there for the audience's benefit since most of the cast is ignorant of it and thus does not interact with that element of the plot at all. It takes the viewer distinctly out of the experience on the realisation that an entire plot element is invisible to a majority of the cast, leaving its resolution feeling arbitrary and unsatisfying.

The movie's leads, Amuro and Doan, have a surprisingly subtle depth to them. While we do get flashbacks for both of them to their earlier experiences in the war, there is never a cathartic conversation about it during the show. While we get some dialogue that implicitly discusses the war experience of Amuro and Doan, most of it is subtly reflected in their behaviour and mannerism around the island. It is interesting, though a bit strange initially, to return to teenaged Amuro. While most his more recent incarnations are just as brooding, they are all distinctly more mature in how they carry themselves. But this should pose no issue for a viewer newer to the Gundam series, and older fans will find that Furuya Toru's performance is still spot on for a younger Amuro despite the decades that have gone by. Although they play only an indirect role in the movie, the scenes with Bright and Mirai are some fantastic character moments, though they are not strictly necessary for the plot. The rest of the White Base crew are as charming as ever, with Kai, Sleggar Law and Sayla standing out.

The action and animation are excellent, as expected of Sunrise, with plenty to keep the viewer engaged. The CGI mobile suits are fantastically modelled and give the fights a sense of weight that older Gundam series sometimes lack. Much of the older animation had action happen at a breakneck pace, with the mobile suits being animated as incredibly nimble, whipping back and forth. The CGI models have the ability to convey the immense weight of the mech while combining it with this nimble action to create incredibly kinetic fights. The scenes with the RX-78 wielding its beam sabres are a highlight, evoking the old-fashioned Kurosawa-style swordfights in the movement of the mobile suits and how the tension is built up as they size up each other. Of course, there are some misses, like the truly idiotic moving turtle design of Admiral Gopp's flagship La Grandpa. But these are extremely minor issues. And in defence of the movie, the design of vehicles from the original MSG, like the Gunperry, do also look distinctly retro and unrealistic by current standards. On the music side, it is similarly fantastic, with plenty of leitmotifs and tracks from the original MSG OST being incorporated into the movie. In particular, the more mellow version of Tobe! Gundam with the acoustic guitar is a standout, evoking both a mellow nostalgia and a tender, at times close to sorrow when it is played. All these aesthetic elements combine with and significantly enhance the characters and the plot.

Overall, Cucuruz Doan's Island is a solid entry in the Gundam franchise. Though it does suffer a bit from a conflict in its tone with how it tacts on the larger potential consequences of its plot, there is still an emotional core of a man bidding farewell to arms. Even though it would have probably been emotionally and thematically stronger as a more intimate story with fewer stakes, akin to the original episode it is based on it, it is still a strong 7 out of 10. Probably even an 8 out of 10 for fans of the original MSG characters in particular. And as a stand-alone film to someone unfamiliar with the franchise, it is still something entertaining and a reasonable taster of what Gundam has to offer.

Just Because! is an excellent drama/romance that feels far more genuine and true to life than most anime. Though it is still a little rough around the edges at times in terms of the animation and some of the voice acting, it still pulls through, with the roughness even adding to its charm in certain ways. Combining subdued yet visceral character performances and a concise, focused story, it makes for an endearing show about relationships, nostalgia and the transition from one stage of life to the next.

The primary way Just Because! differentiates itself from many of its peers in how grounded it remains in its ... tone and atmosphere. Romance dramas set in high school tend to take an over-the-top, anime-esque approach to their plot and dialogue to keep the viewer engaged. This often relies on the ability of animation to exaggerate its subjects to create this sense of heightened reality where the extreme or unrealistic is believable. But in the back of the viewer's mind, there is always this awareness that they are watching something that can never translate anywhere close to real life. Being a part of some ill-defined, wacky afterschool club filled with eccentric personalities or in some absurd situation is a hallmark of most Shounen romances. While these shows can still make for an entertaining watch, there is this missing sense of a visceral connection to the characters or their circumstance. Despite being far more mundane as the story of a group of people who bond together, Just Because! has a strong sense of realism that anchors the audience in its characters and their relationships. It makes for a powerfully down-to-earth show that does not rely on exaggeration to get the viewer to empathise with the characters.

As a character-driven story in the truest sense of the phrase, the setting and circumstances the cast find themselves in only serves as a catalyst for them to come out of their shells. Again, Just Because! differentiates itself from most high school dramas by setting itself in the final term before graduation. It is the conclusion of a massive chapter in people's lives which creates this atmosphere of bittersweet remembrance since everything is about to change drastically. In fact, it is a wonder that so few stories focus on this period with how pivotal it is and how many themes can be explored. For characters like Soma, it feels like the end of his youth, with him going off to work straight from high school. But even for the rest of the cast going on to university, there is this understanding that higher education will not be the same, both for good and bad. And with all periods of significant change, there is this palpable anxiety throughout the show. Whether it is due to uncertainty in Natsume's case because she still needs to sit for her entrance exams or because it is their final chance to do something before the chapter closes. The atmosphere created by this setting grounds everything and ties it all together into this mellow story of closing out their adolescence and moving on to becoming young adults.

The arrival of Izumi is what brings our cast together and delves into the themes the show is trying to explore. Prior to his arrival, everyone was more or less in their own bubble, attempting to cope with the impending change on their own. It gives the initial episodes this mellow, almost melancholic tone as the cast steadily grows out of their isolation and forms a bond with each other. Although they have been with their previous friend groups throughout high school, none of them can really understand their situation anymore because of the different paths they have chosen for their post-high school life. Alone, they feel continuously smothered by the impending change. And although they all interacted with each other throughout high school, they never hit it off until Izumi appeared. It is in this element that the show starts to take on its hopeful, optimistic tone with the idea that you can build bonds with people even in the most uncertain times and that it's never too late.

Izumi's return to Kanagawa goes beyond being the inciting incident of the plot and brings up many of the themes. For characters like Natsume and Soma, he is from their past and brings up the nostalgia of the end of schooling, pushing them to tie up loose ends. On the other hand, Izumi is quite literally the future for Komiya since he is a means for her to save the photography club. Although there is some conflict with how all their personalities, circumstances and dreams for the future intersect, it is never melodramatic and all refreshingly subtle. There is this realistic level of subtext and even passive-aggression when the characters push against each other during conversations instead of the usual "subtext is for cowards" approach that makes a lot of anime so hamfisted and unbelievable. Even the character with the most forthcoming personality, Soma, does not simply bluster through everything and shows a great deal of self-doubt and anxiety before he can finally push himself to be direct. It succeeds in balancing the melancholy and uncertainty of high school ending with this optimism of starting a new chapter in their lives and finding a way to maintain their current relationships.

Still, the worries and difficulties of the cast are always presented in proportion to what they really are. Being rejected by someone, never reconnecting with a friend, or having one's club shut down are painful moments, but the characters nor the framing of the show ever portray them to be soul-crushing end-of-the-world moments. Even the challenges of maintaining a long-distance relationship or moving away from family, prime conflict fodder for many shows, are not melodramatised in a bid to create a cheap flash point. The cast all have their worries, but being true to life, it is something they try to manage instead of it instantly or cheaply boiling over into a big row for entertainment. While there are some minor red hearings regarding potential love triangles within the group, they never become obstructive and are quickly dropped. Instead, it is played off more as fondness, with the cast establishing a convincing chemistry from there. Most of the show is appropriately light-hearted but never goes overboard to become saccharine like some other slice-of-life shows. Even with the subdued cast, there is still that spark of eccentricity and energy through Komiya's performance, which balances things out and gives the audience something more anime-esque in tone.

As mentioned, some rougher elements in voice acting and animation exist. At times the tone and line delivery can feel just slightly off with it forgoing the usual anime exaggerations but not quite being something you would hear in real life. But perhaps this can be explained by the relative inexperience of the cast, with it being the first major role for many of them aside from Lynn and Murata Taishi. While the cast's collective performance is still good overall, it is perhaps no surprise that Komiya and Souma tend to steal the show, both because of their more lively personalities and their voice actors having the most experience. But as a debut performance for Izumi and Natsume's voice actors, Ichikawa Aoi and Isobe Karin, it is definitely impressive, with the subtler expressiveness coming through.

The cinematography is still excellent, lingering on characters' expressions to drive home their feelings without the need for dialogue. The use of text messages and how they appear on screen is also one of the better instances in anime. Instead of sticking out, it feels like a fully integrated part of the visual narrative. And it adds to that sense of realism with how accurately they capture chatting on LINE with the many stickers they animated. It also creates a strong visual juxtaposition between the character's usually subdued expressions and the highly emotive stickers. It feels exceptionally true to life with how people can send these while looking completely deadpan. However, some of the backgrounds and more niche animations have suffered. While the smudged oil painting style backgrounds are a distinct stylistic choice, they are sometimes too dominating, with only the characters being sharply defined in the scene. It gives the feeling that everything is in an out-of-focus blur and draws unnecessary attention to itself. And though brief, the animations of trumpet playing also lack synchronisation with the music they are playing and come off as incredibly stiff. There are other minor instances, like the poor compositing of the CGI Shonan Monorail, but all these are forgivable since this is one of studio PINE JAM's earliest productions. While the animation quality still cannot match the industry leaders and could use some additional polish, it is more than adequate.

Overall, Just Because! is an excellent drama that feels far truer to life than most other anime ever come close to. A solid 8 out of 10 for anyone looking for a more grounded drama that deals with themes and problems far closer to home. It is easy to believe that the characters are just as real as any classmate you might have had in school. And while it does not break new ground, it is a solid performance that covers its theme of the end of adolescence excellently. With so many other anime content to be set in high school but never deal with its conclusion, it is hard not to see the uniqueness in Just Because!

Season 2 of Bofuri is disappointingly mediocre, with it feeling like it was more fun for the writer to imagine and write it out than for the audience to watch. Bofuri essentially discards, or perhaps more accurately does not develop, a core part of its premise of being an MMO. Instead, it favours only dealing with aspects within the game itself, making it feel dangerously close to a banal isekai. While the first season barely factored in happenings in Maple's real life affecting her gaming, Season 2 somehow omits this even further. Instead of expanding on elements that would help genuinely differentiate it from an ... isekai, Bofuri attempts to match the genre blow for blow. It creates a disappointingly trite experience that oscillates between boredom at the shallowness of the characters and the lack of meaning in its action scenes.

The primary issue with Bofuri is that it sets up the implicit promise of being a story about playing an MMO instead of being transported into the world of one. Admittedly, season 1 did not focus heavily on this element but had a few things working in its favour. The most important was that Bofuri was still fresh for the audience. There was a steady escalation of scale and absurdity, with the viewer and the characters simultaneously discovering the video game setting. This kept viewers engaged through a combination of novelty and the understanding that this laid the necessary framework for exploring stories about playing an MMO. In a way, season 1 of Bofuri excellently captured the experience of a new player being drawn into the world of a game, with how wonderous and engrossing it can be in that honeymoon phase. Despite lacking substantial interaction between the real world and the world of the video game, it still kept the MMO player section of the audience engaged since the experience felt genuine. This was combined with how fresh Bofuri felt then compared to its peers. Most of its direct competitors were straight-up isekais that ranged from trite to completely vapid, allowing Bofuri to stand out by not being directly in their genre.

With season 2, we get functionally more of the status quo, which was already wearing thin by the end of season 1. The finale already long overstayed its welcome, spanning over a quarter of the season. Yet the guild-on-guild clash was still passable as a climax to the growing escalation of power then. The problem that is now glaringly obvious is that there is almost nowhere to go from there in terms of spectacle. A core part of Bofuri's identity and its central joke is Maple breaking the game, albeit unintentionally. To the point where scenarios meant to be gripping, edge-of-your-seat battles are reduced to either comedic encounters or overpowered in hilariously over-the-top ways. This means that Bofuri does not have the option of drawing on the outcome of its battles for its dramatic tension. The core narrative of season 2 opting to be nothing but continued combat encounters makes its entire run feel meaningless. With how incoherent, poorly explained, and frankly broken the game's systems are, there is no way to make battles feel like they are following a sense of internal logic. It is all reduced to feeling arbitrary or adhering to what the writer thought would be the most entertaining conclusion. This being a video game does not help things since failure, or even success, is largely a trivial matter without inherent stakes.

This is not to say the audience cannot be invested in something lower stakes than the trite "you die in the game, you die in real life" setting for other series. But the problem is that battles have a distinct lack of meaning as just showpieces with the characters bumbling into them or being an arbitrary prerequisite for some event. This comes back to the problem of all the characters being paper thin, even moving into the second season. It was passable in season 1 as a consequence of choosing to develop the premise and world first. But aside from increasing the number of fights without Maple present, extremely little has been done to develop them. The Maple Tree guild is still this amorphous group of people trading pleasantries instead of feeling like a genuine group of friends. As a result, there is little understanding of their motivations for participating in events other than "it's a fun video game" and, by extension, little emotional consequence for failing to perform. A primary concern regarding MMOs is that they are time-consuming and can feel like a second job. A strong community is a significant part of what keeps players involved and something Bofuri seemed poised to dig into. If the stakes, conflict and motivation cannot come from the game world, then the obvious option would be to have it stem from managing the relationships between players. Sadly, this season only adds to the chaotic bloat by giving everyone pets but doing nothing to deepen their characterisation.

There is still some entertainment to be had from the sheer spectacle alone, but frankly, Bofuri's animation has never been anything outstanding. Moreover, with some distractingly poorly composited CGI this season, it is hard to argue that the main draw of Bofuri is in watching things play out. It all creates the distinct feeling that the original author was getting carried away. Everything in Bofuri seems like it is something cool to imagine but gets drawn out too far in a combination of lacklustre animation and shallow investment of characters in its outcome. The aesthetic incoherence of the game world starts to seem less like a deliberate choice to set up joke scenarios and more like the author throwing everything into the blender. Instead of parodying some JRPGs that lose control over their internal coherence due to adding in too many different genres, it becomes it. Of course, none of this is an indictment against the author. It is perfectly understandable how someone creative can get carried away. And in a way, it does feel endearing and genuine since the combination seems too chaotic to be a cynical attempt to appeal to a mass audience. However, it is objectively true that indulgence in this instead of focusing on coherence or character has made for a worse narrative.

That is not to say that season 2 did not show some moments of potential. The most interesting parts that kept me watching early on were the mention of Maple being sick and Sally's inability to stomach horror. These were interesting because the problem was not tied to power level within the game. It created a distinct opportunity to develop their characters further. How does Maple deal with missing out on an event? And by extension, how does she deal with having to dedicate so much time to an MMO? In the first season, it is mentioned that she is already having difficulties with her studies. In Sally's case, how does she balance her fear with her desire to be a power gamer? And how does this affect her image in the guild? Do the more junior members start relying on her less? While the joke scenarios about Sally getting around the horror level are entertaining, they have little utility beyond the first initial laughs. That is not to say the show should do away with them, but there needs to be something more substantial to back it up. The characters are already endearing, but that is just on the surface and cannot carry the show through the long term. It is suitable for a few chuckles and smiles but lacks that connection or understanding that keeps invested in characters.

After 24 episodes, most of the secondary cast is still nothing but tropes and caricatures. Much of their time to shine is dedicated to advancing their vaguely defined powers instead of giving them depth. In fact, developing characters would be the solution to many issues. How other shows like A Certain Scientific Railgun limit the agency of powerful characters like Misaka and build tension is through social constraints. They cannot act as they please, not because they lack the raw power but because it would be inappropriate and conflict with their interpersonal goals. This is not to say Bofuri should turn into a show that revolves around heavy character conflicts since that would drastically change its tone. However, having some element of opposing desires within the guild would make things infinitely more interesting and limit the only outcome being Maple coming in to end the problem. Even on the comedy side, it would allow more of the laughs to come from characters playing off each other than being limited to the scenario. Right now, most of Bofuri's jokes come from arbitrary outcomes that happen to the characters instead of a difference in response to the situation or a clash of their personalities. In the end, the intra-guild relationships are a big part of what makes an MMO special, and the lack of emphasis on it feels both like a missed opportunity and a significant limitation of where the story can go.

Overall, season 2 of Bofuri is disappointingly mediocre, with little to get a viewer invested in the characters. I deliberately used the term scenario instead of the plot since there is no real coherent story, and it is still just moving from event to event. While this is fine for action comedies, it then means that things hinge more on the currently sorely lacking characters. It is also true that Bofuri made no explicit promise to explore being an MMO player and how real life intersects or even competes with gaming. However, it was also the only thing that set Bofuri apart and gave it the potential to surpass its peers. With its focus squarely on its fictional world and having nothing but absurd battle after battle, it starts to feel incredibly hollow, with little to differentiate it from an isekai. The season still got the occasional smile or chuckle out of me, and it is not distastefully trying to glorify its protagonist as an author/viewer insert like most isekai. Yet achieving minimum expectations cannot be said to make something good.

Sadly, Bofuri is at most a 5 out of 10. It has even made me reconsider how much my praise for season 1 was for its potential instead of concrete merits. Maybe this was the direction Bofuri had always intended to go in, but in that case, it cannot really be said to appeal to MMO players despite being about one. Perhaps the season 1 finale should have tempered my expectations since it was emblematic of the series' trajectory. Nevertheless, I still cannot help but wish that we got a more character-driven Bofuri that focused on guild shenanigans and managing the game with their real-life responsibilities instead of constant over-the-top battles. With season 3 looking to only add to the character bloat and focus even more on battling, I think I will be dropping the series at this juncture.

Witch From Mercury attempts to depart from Gundam's usual plot and themes about fighting a war to focus on the relationship between war and capitalism. Sadly, Mobile Suit Gundam: Military Industrial Complex this is not. While there are attempts to integrate themes subtly and organically instead of throwing them into the viewer's face, they end up falling by the wayside. The show's more juvenile elements concerning its school and its contrived plot around exaggerated corporate politics overwhelm any semblance of exploring its ideas. What is left still has strong visuals and actions, as befitting a Gundam series done by Sunrise, but there is little more. ... The interesting ideas WfM does have are left as nothing more than potential or window dressing. While this might be a fine or even good standard for most sci-fi, anime or otherwise, it is simply not living up to what many other Gundam series have done before.

The central issue of WfM is that its wider conflict, whether between the Spacians and Earthians or within the Benerit Group itself, is all kept ancillary for the entire run of the show. While there is some merit in keeping this all in the background, allowing these conflicts to feel organic to the setting, it reaches the point where it feels like nothing more than window dressing. Conflict between people living on Earth and those that have moved into space is a core part of Gundam. While it seems to be a central point of political tension in WfM, it is never delved into. All we get to see is the frankly petty discrimination perpetrated by the students at Asticassia while the greater economic and political ramifications sit in the background. There are some interesting moments when Chuchu receives a call from her home that goes into the conditions the working class on Earth faces, but these end up being mere moments. They add a flavour and richness to the world but not any substance since we still lack explanations for anything. Without exploring or even detailing this conflict, all the tension between the students from Earth and those from the space colonies feels like juvenile bullying instead of an extension of a broader class conflict.

The only explanation for this tension is that the Spacians polluted the Earth and exploited her resources before leaving for the haven of space. Now they continue to exploit the people of Earth while holding a vast majority of economic and political power. This premise runs contradictory to most science fiction, and even most Gundam series, since it is clear that any near future expansion into the Solar System will still leave Earth as the central cradle for humanity. Aside from Earth having the benefit of being an established political entity, there is an insurmountable advantage to living in a terrestrial environment. Even rudimentary functions like creating breathable air and cycling water become costly in space. It is almost inconceivable how any space-based civilisation with near-future technology would hope to match up to this and close the population, resource, and production gap with the Earth. There simply needs to be a proper explanation for what structures allow the Spacian minority to hold on to so much power over a much larger entity from such a remote distance. Whether these structures are based on traditional political organisation or some megacorporate structure matters since this affects the themes and nature of the story WfM is trying to tell. The lack of explanation first frustrates the viewer since they are missing its broader implications before it finally erodes the viewer's suspension of disbelief. There is no explanation for this illogical power dynamic, and nothing interesting is done with this inversion to justify it.

All Gundam series before this has pitted more or less traditional political entities against each other. From the Earth Federation and Zeon, OMNI and ZAFT, and even the Titans and the AEUG, which are essentially armed political movements, their political organisation and goals can all be taken for granted. However, WfM seems to suggest a megacorporation controlled future. While this is a staple in the cyberpunk genre, it has been noted in many science-fiction works that corporate entities are simply unequipped and frankly uninterested in governance. While they will exert control over traditional governmental entities for their benefit, primarily in terms of legislation, there is little interest in totally supplanting them. This interaction is infinitely more interesting to explore than the caricature of a megacorporation running the world. Gundam has skirted around this in the past, with corporations in the series like Anaheim Electronics, Zeonic and Morgenrote all benefitting immensely from wars and even pulling the strings to an extent. Anaheim Electronics is probably the biggest offender in past series since they decided to arm the rebel AEUG, thereby involving themselves as a political player. By changing the perspective from a national entity to a corporate one, WfM was poised to explore other themes like war profiteering, the ethics of arms manufacturing and even the use of force by corporate entities. There are significant consequences of traditional political entities losing their monopoly on violence since it allows business disputes to be settled via combat.

Again, WfM goes nowhere with this setup and only pays lip service to this idea. There are some concerns from the Earthian students about developing weapons that will be used against their own people, but nothing more is done with it. This is a distinct pattern in WfM in that it suggests itself to have a greater depth by inserting its conflict in the background and bringing it up in smaller moments. However, nothing is ever done with this, and it is always just a touch-and-go affair. This is fundamentally WfM shooting itself in the foot. The premise cannot simply be accepted as window dressing to further their characters, but it is also not explored enough to meet the expectations it sets up as being a core pillar of the show.

This extends to even the more fleshed-out elements of WfM's politics in the Benerit Group. It is frustratingly unclear how the group interacts with the wider world. Being clearly shown as the primary exploiter of Earthians would add greater tension to the story. However, this is left vague and undefined, only suggesting that since they are a primarily Spacian group, they are involved in this. Even their status as either a corporate entity with a private military or a quasi-governmental group is unclear. The same can be said about Cathedra and all the other institutions in the series that seem to be involved in governance. It is desperately unclear whether they are some semblance of a traditional political entity that a corporation has hijacked or if they are a capitalist entity through and through. WfM expects you to take this all for granted even though this vagueness undermines any greater thematic points it tries to make about megacorporations.

Even within the Benerit Group, how the different companies interact is like a caricature of an evil cutthroat corporation. Large conglomerates are usually centrally controlled since they are the product of vertical and horizontal integration. They are more than willing to acquire and prop up companies that are losing money if there is some future payoff, especially if they are developing new IPs or technologies that are not mature enough to start returning immense profits. Which is precisely what the Gund Format technology in WfM is. Turning the Benerit Group into some death game-esque circus where the company with the lowest profits gets ejected from the group is frankly absurd. Someone at Bandai Namco, and probably Sunrise as well, knows better than this since they are an actual corporation with subsidiaries that are not all as profitable as each other and serve different purposes to the group as a whole. So why this is dumbed down and caricatured cannot be down to ignorance. As a deliberate choice, it may make WfM's corporate politics more digestible or dramatic, but it does undermine any more serious or complicated points they are trying to make.

This all results in the setting of WfM feeling disjointed as it has the depth of window dressing but is constantly paraded as being, or at least potentially being, a significant element of the series. All this is not helped by how the geography between different locations in the series is not well defined. While there are a few named locations like Earth and Mercury, where all the space installations like Asticassia are in the solar system are unclear. Are they at one of the Earth Lagrange points? Or somewhere further out. This lack of spatial relationships between the show's locations leaves it feeling even more floaty, as if it exists in a vacuum, creating a disjointed impression. As if all these places only exist as locations for the plot to happen instead of being actual installations that relate to each other beyond that. All this would still be adequate for some other sci-fi series, but Gundam sets a high bar for itself, and WfM is no exception.

The premise of WfM, or perhaps its lack thereof, begins to compound the issues of the series when it clashes with the plot. On a conceptual level, the Asticassia school is a decent place for a Gundam series to take place. As a school meant to train mechanics, pilots, designers and anyone else required to develop and utilise mobile suits, it is a ripe setting for something new in Gundam. While the school setting can seem a little trite and juvenile, given how it is handled in so many other anime, there is no reason to write it off. As someone who loved the more light-hearted Gundam Build Fighters and the school phase of Fire Emblem Three Houses, there is no reason why this setup could not be made to complement the heavier themes of the wider show.

However, the main stumbling block is that it is unclear what the function of Asticassia school is. The students in the piloting department train as if they are going to be sent into combat. A vital part of the premise that would support this is the presence of a conflict, or at least a potential one, that they are training for. None of this is even remotely established at any point in WfM. The school is positioned to be a training ground for the children of members of the Benerit Group, with even the top leadership participating. It is hard to see how these heirs to companies would be expected to act as soldiers or even commanders in some kind of private military. This created the feeling that the school setting has no real justification in the broader premise of WfM and is just there for the entertainment factor. This impression is only compounded by the school using mobile suit duels to not only settle disputes but create apparently legally binding agreements from the wager. This appears as nothing but absurdity when it is juxtaposed with how a corporation would conduct its dealings. The idea that a duel between teenagers could overturn business dealings or agreements made by companies is laughable.

The school's internal organisation makes little sense since the students are apparently divided into "houses". However, these seemed to be formed at students' whims instead of being regulated by the institution. Furthermore, they seemed to be formed along any lines that can exist, be it the students collective place of origin or their affiliation with one of the companies. While students having an unjust disparity in resources based on their connections is quite thematically on point for a school run by a megacorporation, it does make for an incredibly incoherent school system. While this could be made to work, it requires a great deal more focus and explanation. Again, WfM does not dedicate enough time to explain this element of its setting, given how convoluted it makes it. Much of the run time is focused on name-dropping company rivalries but little of how any of it actually functions beyond duelling and sabotaging each other in exams. With how convoluted it all appears to be, the only option to make this coherent would be to commit to the premise of this being Mobile Suit Gundam: The High School. While nothing is wrong with that premise, it is certainly not what the show bills itself to be.

The dual premises of a dystopian megacorp future and a Gundam high school end up in severe tension with each other since the latter appears so incoherent that the only reason left to explain its inclusion is for sheer juvenile entertainment. In essence, WfM attempts to have it both ways and succeeds at neither since its run time and narrative resources were not concentrated. The greatest failing of this is that the prologue compounds this idea by setting up WfM as a relatively serious story in the vein of most other Gundam series about corporate warfare. Even if WfM wishes to abrogate its Gundam legacy regarding the expectations it wants viewers to have, its own prologue does it no favours. The simple solution to this would have been to dial back on either the convoluted nature of the school or the hints at high-concept sci-fi themes. However, the most obvious answer would have been to highlight some ongoing conflict that would explain all the issues listed above, even if just a low-intensity insurgency. It would clarify the nature of the Benerit Group's relationship with Earthians, establish what political organisation the solar system has in WfM, and give a reason for the school to focus on combat training.

Perhaps this is what WfM is preparing the groundwork for, but given that we are 13 episodes in and none of this has been clarified, it is hard to give them a great deal of leeway. While an argument can be made that there is still a second season of WfM and that they are meant to be viewed as a whole, that is simply too charitable. At this point, it is 13 episodes worth of questions, few answers and no clear idea of the details of the central conflict. Most of it is merely implied, or worse, just left up to the viewers' assumption. That is far too long for so many elements to be held up as intriguing mysteries and dips into an unclear mess.

Coming finally to the characters, they only add to this lack of clarity. They can be more or less split between childish students and almost cartoonishly evil corporate leaders. A vast majority of the supporting cast end up as stereotypical portrayals or, at worst, caricatures of rich snobby students or school bullies. This is perfectly serviceable but nothing noteworthy that helps to prop up the weaker elements of the show. While there is depth in some of them, or at least a hint of it, they are almost all built up on mysteries in their backstory. Similarly to the questions regarding WfM's setting, none of these have been clarified or answered, even at the 13 episode mark.

At this juncture, Chuchu is probably the most fleshed-out character since she also has the most straightforward motivations. While her behaviour is quite off-putting, it does make perfect sense. Growing up in an environment economically exploited by the Spacians would naturally foster a great animosity in her. Similarly, Guel, being raised as the heir to a large successful company, is portrayed as an arrogant bully due to his privileged position. It is only after he has lost everything that he is in a position to grow as a character and prove his merit. What the two of them have in common is that they are two of the few characters whose behaviour and development do not hinge on some mystery or unknown in their backstory. While this should be and often is the standard in most shows, it is stunning that they are in the minority for WfM.

On the other hand, most other characters have their development hinge on gaps or mysteries in their background. Ranging from Elan, Shaddiq, to Nika and even Suletta, their characters are made compelling because there is more to reveal about their current situation as opposed to places their character has to grow. While there are interesting ideas to explore in these mysteries that do link back to and support the greater themes of WfM, there are simply too many unknowns this far into the series. It gets to the point where the viewer has to go beyond inferring character motivations to outright guessing and assuming. While this can be interesting for one or a few of them, having so members of the cast fall into this category gives the impression of chaos in the plot. It frustrates engaged viewers since there is little concrete they can dig into for more insight or hints. They are reduced to watching a spectacle and waiting for the writer's hand to reveal itself instead of being drawn in by understanding the situation. Sadly, the leading duo of Suletta and Minorine lack the charisma to carry the show on the strength of their performance. Even though I have been favourable to similar characters and dynamics in other shows, that spark feels lacking here.

Overall, WfM feels like it is being crushed under the weight of all the mysteries and vagueness it establishes. After its 13-episode run, there are only questions, multitudes of moving pieces and no answers. While that could indicate an interesting show built on intricate planning, the impression WfM gives is that this is more down to attempting to do too many things simultaneously. The premise of WfM, while fresh for Gundam, is nothing exceptional in the wider sci-fi genre. There have been and will be many works that discuss corporate excess and economic inequality. While that does not mean that it is not worth exploring or having a Gundam riff on it, it does mean that having so many of the core conflicts kept off the board as secrets oversells how impactful they will be as reveals that retroactively contextualise things or escalate the situation. Anyone familiar with Gundam and/or science fiction can probably guess where the plot is going and the missing elements behind the premise. That in itself is not a strike against any show. The problem is that viewers are making these not as inferences but as guesses. It uses genre savviness and knowledge of science fiction concepts to make these conclusions instead of using information supplied by the show. That is either a failure to communicate ideas effectively or a lack of effort and attention paid to them.

Even if WfM handles everything smoothly in its second season, expanding the information it provides about its setting and properly resolving all its character mystery boxes, it will simply have taken too long. At the very least, it would indicate that WfM suffers severe construction and pacing issues if it requires the viewer to go more than half its run in this state of seeing things unfold but not comprehending a majority of the causation. Even if it does develop the conflict between Earthians and Spacians to the depth and quality we have come to expect from Gundam and other long-running sci-fi series, the damage has been done to how cartoonishly the Benerit Group is shown to operate and how incoherent the school is.

Mobile Suit Gundam: The Witch From Mercury does have the foundation for interesting ideas and a story. However, it tries to do too many things and makes them needlessly convoluted. While there is some merit to how it handles its core conflicts and tries to integrate them organically, the lack of details or emphasis on it makes them feel like window dressing to its juvenile school elements. The setting feels at this juncture to be incoherent, bordering on artificial. Carried mainly by its visuals, it is hard to give it more credit since the complexities in its ideas and characters remain only as possibilities for the second season to pick up on. It is hard to rate it more than a 6 out of 10, which is being generous and including the potential it has built instead of actually executing any of it. As harsh as I have been, I do hope that season 2 picks up the ball and at least benefits from this preparation, even if that will not retroactively improve the structural elements of these initial episodes.