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Very little rocked the anime landscape compared to the seismic waves that Spy x Family sent in 2022, and for good reason. The show was a well animated, funny and endearing series about a father and mother living hidden lives as a spy and assassin respectively, while their adoptive daughter’s secret telekinetic powers lead to amusing situations. While the series gets off to a sensational start it doesn’t quite maintain the same amount of steam all the way to the finish, but Spy x Family remains a family-friendly romp that’s charming and… well… elegant.

We follow the adventures of spy Twilight, going by the ... cover name of Loid Forger, who is undergoing a mission to maintain peace between fictional nations Ostania and Westalis. His best chance of doing so is by getting near the inner circle of politician Donovan Desmond, but that will require Forger building up a successful family life – something a spy in his position is certainly not used to having. He looks to achieve this by bringing an adopted daughter, Anya, into the picture along with a wife, Yor. Neither Loid or Yor knows each other’s secret trade but Anya does through her telekinesis. Hijinks and misunderstandings ensue through her use of that power, and Loid and Yor are happy to strike up a quick marriage to help each other out in their respective tricky social situations.

The premise is fun and I think the first half of the show makes wonderful use of it across its first couple of episodes. Anya’s determination to help her father achieve his mission makes up the bulk of Spy x Family’s delightful humour. Her god-tier reaction faces make up another good chunk of the laughs. And those laughs don’t come at the cost of some heartwarming moments between the makeshift husband-wife and their rambunctious Anya.

It’s no hyperbole on my part to say that the first few episodes were simply spellbinding. The show really struck this beautiful mix of humour and action while also laying the groundwork for a heartfelt family tale to unfold. It doesn't take long to see that Anya is a bubbly and inquisitive girl who is more than just a face of many memes. Watching her threaten to wear down her adoptive father’s icy exterior through the power of wholesome energy is very comfy viewing. The dynamic between her and Loid is always believable and funny, and that remains the case through all 12 episodes.

It’s great that you can watch Loid try to juggle his dangerous job while also learning to treat Anya as more than an asset for his mission. A lot of times I see anime try and go for the big tearjerker moment without giving you a reason to feel invested in the relationship between two characters, but every emotional scene between Loid and Anya really hits the right spot. Her endearing innocence eating away at his stoic outlook is so loveable. The number of times this show elicited a soft “Aaaaw” out of me may be too many to count.

The animation is fluid, the character designs are top notch and the quality is pretty consistent. None of that should really come as a shock to anyone familiar with Wit Studio’s work. The classic Western European building designs and city layouts look lovely. I also watched the dub for the show and all the voices felt appropriate for each character and the delivery was great. There are very few holes you could pick at when it comes to the production for Spy x Family. The studio knew they were handling a beloved manga and gave it the care and attention it deserved.

Anya really eats up more of the runtime after the midway point of the show, and whether this works for you or not will probably depend on what you want from this anime. If her endless series of all-time reaction faces give you a laugh and the visual jokes have been a positive for you then you’re still going to get a kick out of her scenes. But if you were craving a bit more progression for the story, and further development for Loid and Yor’s relationship, then you might be left wanting. I probably found myself falling into that latter category, and it was sad to really see Yor almost get reduced to a background character when her profession means she should be anything but that. By the end of the season I’d almost forgotten that she was an assassin.

I think those first couple of episodes really set the bar monstrously high. The balance between the action, story and great character moments were virtually perfected. The pacing gets dragged back a notch around the midway point and some episodes really felt like they added very little to the story. But at worst those episodes will still deliver laughs. Yor’s brother, who joins later into the series, also falls into the awful clingy sibling trope which always wears down my patience. Thankfully nearly every other character steers clear of such ‘animeisms’, as I like to call them, and that makes this show a great recommendation for someone who isn’t really familiar with the anime medium.

Very few anime these days can deliver a combination of humour, loveable main characters and quality production like this. While Spy x Family could have been something spectacular, it is – at worst – a very likeable comedy.

Anya could thaw the iciest of hearts. She is tonic for the soul. Don’t deny yourself a dose of that medicine.

Please Teacher is a story of how a sexy alien humanoid teacher decides to fall in love with a boy with the personality about as loveable as the lint you find in the back of your dryer. In fact, watching your clothes dryer tumble around and around could be more enjoyable than watching this.

Hiding their relationship from those around them, our main characters Kei and Mizuho dance around each other's emotions while simultaneously dancing around a flaky script and so many moments of filler. It's a marathon to get through. The novelty of the show's scenario took a couple of episodes to wear off ... but once it did I sat there waiting for the next big 'wow' moment, or the next big development to unfold. But the twists and turns are unsatisfying and the supporting cast are usually cast aside for more Kei screen time, who has the appeal of a root canal.

Mizuho isn't much more exciting. Her main personality trait appears to be having Pocky in her mouth, longing for Kei because... um... he's the main character, and falling into the personality trope more typical of a 14-year-old jealous girlfriend. Riveting viewing. They're a painful couple to watch. Nothing they do, say or think is realistic. It's enough to make you pull your hair out.

There's usually a point in a bad anime where, if you're a couple of drinks deep, it can redeem itself through a so-bad-it's-good moment. Perhaps it's a funny scenario, a laughable piece of dialogue or a fanservice moment that's so over the top you can't help but cackle. Too bad there's none of that here. You'll watch our main character make atrocious decisions, lie to himself, deprive himself of what he really wants and you'll enjoy every minute of it, damn it.

‘Guilt’ can be a raincloud that stays above our heads for a long time, drenching you with memories you would rather forget or push to the back of your mind. When the thunder of that cloud booms above us it can drive us to do things we normally couldn’t imagine ourselves doing… or it can force us to make a change and reach for the sunshine.

In Kyoto Animation’s film, Koe no Katachi (‘A Silent Voice’), we witness how ‘guilt’ can overpower us and wreak havoc on ourselves and those around us. The story follows Shouya, a boy who relentlessly bullies a deaf girl, Shouko, ... in elementary school. His horrible actions catch up with him through middle school as his classmates begin to cast him aside. In high school he gets his opportunity to make amends with Shouko, but it’s not so easy to heal old wounds.

There’s a lot to love about Koe no Katachi but a lot that could have been executed better with characterisation. From a story perspective the movie explores its ideas of communication and isolation well. Watching Shouya try to become a better human being is a rewarding experience. The many hurdles he goes through along the way feel realistic. He of course begins to realise that trying to overcome his guilt isn’t a journey between only he and Shouko. It brings families and friends into the mix.

Shouya’s struggle becomes one giant balancing act. As he makes progress in one area he risks leaving other people behind or doing even more damage to Shouko than he’s already done. Although some scenes stray too much into the classic anime ‘emotionally overwrought’ territory it’s never painful to sit through and it remains grounded in its execution. The sweet, mellow visuals and the overall animation style add plenty to the experience. If you want a simple but likeable story about self-improvement then Koe no Katachi may be what you’re looking for.

The main characters could have done with some extra fleshing out to help the big scenes really hit home. I was left with several unanswered questions that, if answered, may have taken the film to the next level. What instigated Shouya to try and become a better person? What drove him to behave the way he did in the first place? What’s really going on in Shouko’s mind? And it’s that last question which is perhaps the more burning one.

I wanted to get to know Shouko better as a character. It’s great that the movie spends plenty of time meticulously following Shouya’s path towards redemption. His development is believable and engaging, but sometimes Shouko feels neglected. She’s the other integral half to the film. I wanted to feel her plight but it felt like a window was shut between me and her. I got a peek through the shutters but I wanted them thrown open.

Koe no Katachi is simply a story about someone trying to make things right, but it’s told with plenty of heart. While it may have been more memorable with a stronger cast it doesn’t make the film any less of a recommendable treat. After a somewhat by-the-numbers opening half hour the movie grabbed me and never let go for the full runtime.

Shakunetsu no Takkyuu Musume (Scorching Ping Pong Girls) is a textbook case of 'I should have known better'. This anime from studio Kinema Citrus - following the trials and tribulations of a middle school girls table tennis team - had the potential to be an interesting experience but the warning signs were there from the opening episodes. What unfolded was a by-the-numbers moe-sports hybrid. You've seen this before: New girl has skill, makes number one player jealous and the pair work hard to overcome their faults and step up their game. Is there at least interesting characters or twists to the story to make ... this predictable formula exciting? Don't get your hopes up. Annoying mannerisms from the cast, bland character design and a drab narrative all play their part in making Shakunetsu no Takkyuu Musume a show I'd backhand off the table in a hurry.

Our main character is Koyori Tsumujikaze, a shy transfer student who finds the perfect place to seek excitement thanks to the Suzumegahara Middle School table tennis club. It's there she runs into the number one player, Agari Kamiya, a confident but jealous girl. Koyori is in search of the player who can bring out the best in her, and Agari fits the bill. Agari has never been greatly tested by the rest of the club but when the talented Koyori shows up things start to change.

It feels kind of wrong to hate on such a light-spirited show but when its characters sound and act like fingernails on chalkboard then it's hard not to. To counter this I've come up with a way to make watching Shakunetsu no Takkyuu Musume somewhat bearable. It's "Tozzy's Scorching Ping Pong Girls Drinking Game", and the rules are simple. Grab a bottle of your favourite spirit - the kind that makes your head throb harder than Koyori's heart - and make sure you key in the emergency number on your phone beforehand, just in case. Then take a shot every time Koyori mentions the excitable state of her heart, Hokuto converses with a character not by name but by the colour or composition of their underwear, Kiruka decides to nest her noggin in Mune's comically large chest, Hanabi squeezes or fiddles with someone's hair or one of the first-years need the game explained to them during the middle of a point. It's not so much that there's anything wrong with these things, it's just that their repetition reinforces little surprises Shakunetsu no Takkyuu Musume is willing to throw the viewers way. The show is built upon characters who act a particular way, and one way only. Sweet, jealous, insecure, creepy, quiet or loud. The end result? No curveballs. Little development. Rarely entertaining.

If you've followed through my drinking game I apologise in advance. I assume by the point you've made it through the 12 episodes adhering to these rules then you're in trouble. Regardless if you're staring down an empty bottle or into your soul contemplating why you watched this show there's one thing that's clear to see - Shakunetsu no Takkyuu Musume is no different from the last moe dribble you watched. It's sickeningly sacchrine and painfully dull. All these faults, cliches and annoying characters are actually disappointing because there's the odd moment of glorious animation in this show but it's not worth slogging through the remainder of the series to witness it. Some of the table tennis scenes (the main reason I watched this show) look fantastic, at least when the characters decide to shut up and let the game unfold, that is.

Thanks to a one-dimensional cast and a story that ends at an awkward moment Shakunetsu no Takkyuu Musume earns three heartbeats out of 10. Someone get me a defibrillator and make my heart race again.

Taking ‘put yourself in someone else’s shoes’ to a whole new level, the latest film from director Makoto Shinkai (5cm per Second, Garden of Words) is a heartfelt exploration of empathy, love and loss. Kimi no Na wa (otherwise known as “Your Name”) revolves around two characters, Mitsuha and Taki, who are caught up in a strange phenomenon that allows them to see into each other’s lives. Mitsuha lives out in the countryside while Taki is a Tokyo resident, which means the pair have a window into places they’ve never seen or experienced before. The strange moments they both go through naturally lead to conflicts ... but eventually their situation evolves into something much more profound. It’s funny, sad, horrifying, uplifting and mesmerising all in equal doses. Kimi no Na wa will reward you the more blind you go into the film. It’s a fairly simple story, filled with common themes, but elevated into something very memorable.

Shinkai has progressed beyond simply exploring concepts of love to actually writing interesting characters to express those ideas. By creating lead characters who have personalities that are actually integral to the story (Mitsuha especially so) Shinkai has managed to make something truly engaging, something that rewards you as a viewer. As a director he’s searched for ways to explore the boundaries around love but with Kimi no Na wa he’s infused enough life into the cast to make every emotional punch really hit home. There’s enough meaningful time dedicated to building thriving landscapes around both Mitsuha and Taki that Shinkai’s film doesn’t just look pretty, it is filled with wonder. Because of this he has delivered characters who manage to be equally captivating as the jaw dropping scenery they’re within – something I’m not accustomed to seeing from his films.

The story of Kimi no Na wa certainly has its predictable moments but I’m happy to overlook them because the narrative is executed so well. There’s enough new complications added to the tale as it progresses to keep it interesting and there’s sufficient foreshadowing to make reveals incredibly satisfying. Shinkai manages to make full use of both Taki and Mitsuha’s social circles to develop their characters and make their plight something worth our time. That’s something many anime TV series struggle to do, even with plenty more runtime up their sleeve to work with.

One of the most insufferable things watching any high school anime drama is how painfully overwrought things can get when it comes to characters expressing their feelings. While Kimi no Na wa comes close at times to overstepping the mark thankfully it manages to maintain a level of sensibility. The comedy and drama is balanced refreshingly well. There’s enough light hearted moments injected in patches throughout the movie to prevent it from becoming an over-emotional burden to sit through. It would be wrong to go so far as to call the handling of the drama ‘realistic’, but it’s wonderful to sit through something that doesn’t require the characters to inundate us constantly with how they’re feeling. Shinkai’s art, character actions and expressions all do that for us.

Speaking of that art, you know it’s going to be good. You don’t need me to tell you that. There’s endless details to be found in the background art and the animation is fluid. The score is gorgeous and it feels like no expense was spared in the sound design. Now that Shinkai has crafted some memorable characters to be a part of all this lush and vivid scenery these art and sound assets don’t feel wasted. For once I feel like I’m watching one of his films where the characters and art have been treated with equal importance, instead of being unbalanced in favour of the latter.

I was initially hesitant to the idea of people calling Makoto Shinkai the next Miyazaki but if he manages to continually craft wondrous adventures like Kimi no Na wa then I can get behind the notion. However, this will be hard to top. Some would, understandably, find Kimi no Na wa a little emotionally cumbersome and easy to predict where it may be going story-wise, but the film just clicked for me. Shinkai’s spin on young love is oozing with artistic flair and packed with stirring set pieces. It is an immensely satisfying watch from start to finish.

Those who brought you people fighting with super-powered fabric, a psychedelic ninja parody and a skeleton cop with fire for hair have decided to get serious. Sort of. Kiznaiver is the name of studio Trigger’s latest effort, a story revolving around seven students bonded together through their pain. Compared to the studio’s recent offerings it’s a story that is a little more grounded in reality, attempting to appeal to a very important element of humanity: empathy. That’s not to say Kiznaiver isn’t without the sumptuous visual quirks and energy in the cast that made their wackier works so enjoyable, but this time it comes with ... more focus on drama and the relationships between characters. It’s a volatile concoction to try and bring under control and this new mixture doesn’t quite work. At times entertaining, Kiznaiver starts dipping into uninteresting side stories, leaves much of the cast one-dimensional and cranks the ‘drama’ dial up to embarrassingly high levels.

Confused and frustrated by the experiment they find themselves wrapped up in, the group of seven have to delve into each other’s past and solve each other’s problems to avoid hurting themselves any further. There’s two stories going on in Kiznaiver which intertwine, one about the experiment while the other is how it all came to be. The latter was better at keeping my curiosity piqued but it doesn’t get anywhere near enough screen time. Kiznaiver only delves into its most interesting ideas towards the end of the series and it makes you wonder if some early episodes served any purpose against the grand scheme of things. From initially being a more light-hearted story it’s like someone smashed the ‘It’s time to get serious’ button at a certain point, making for an extremely jarring transition. The issue is that they forgot to prime the ‘character development’ switch, so the emotional punch Kiznaiver attempts to pull on you during its climatic moments becomes something more akin to a feather touch.

Some of the humour and the way the main seven characters’ personalities clash with one another makes for some fun viewing, particularly in the opening third of the series. How much you as a viewer will take away from its more serious moments though may come down to your tolerance for Mari Okada’s brand of writing: Saturated with characters expressing their feelings loudly and struggling to accept relationships that begin to either form or break down. You can’t deny that the setting of Kiznaiver accommodates this to a degree (seven people forced to bear each other’s pain will definitely bring that out) but that doesn’t abstain it of guilt for some of the emotionally overwrought dialogue it spits.

I feel much of my grief with Kiznaiver lies with Katsuhira as the main character. Katsuhira being such an emotionless shell is obviously an important part of the story. It drums up intrigue, especially with our quiet, white-haired lead posited against such an eclectic collection of characters. He’s designed to make you ask questions like ‘What brought him to that point? What can the group do to help? Why is he the odd one out?’ And at the start of the series it works well. There’s flashes of backstory and suggestions that there’s much more to him than meets the eye. That initial interest in Katsuhira started to dwindle the more the show went on because all those questions about him weren’t being addressed at an adequate pace. Writing such an emotionally-deprived lead can be a double-edged sword. It leaves plenty of room for growth but on the other side of the coin it’s difficult to stay engaged with shows where the supporting characters do more to entertain and progress the story than the main one does. Katsuhira’s character is so dry it becomes draining to watch, even when knowing there are layers shielding his past yet to be unravelled.

Overall Kiznaiver is a show that falls well short of what it’s trying to achieve because it can’t balance its silliness – a perfectly fine thing to have – with a sprinkling of maturity. The interactions aren’t that realistic between the cast and that’s a crippling blow for a show trying to tackle something quite serious: What it means to live through the ‘human condition’.

Watching the antics of high school characters in anime has rarely been as enjoyable as it has been while watching Azumanga Daioh. The 2002 anime, directed by Hiroshi Nishikori, wasn’t quite a side-splitter from start to finish but it was a thoroughly entertaining experience. It seems so many comedy shows made in the years since have failed to take lessons from this series in how to create fun yet grounded characters, snappy jokes and fun scenarios. Romping around with boundless charm to the tune of a lovely soundtrack and bringing to the table a super-likeable cast, Azumanga Daioh is certain to bring out a smile ... in the sourest person at some point.

Based on the four-panel (or 4-koma) comic by Kiyohiko Azuma, Azumanga Daioh follows a group of girls through their high school years. The show has virtually no complications to speak of and instead follows the group in their daily lives, only rarely jumping into surreal or outlandish territory. Everyone is bound to find one member of Azumanga Daioh’s eclectic cast funny. Osaka will be a hit-or-miss character for some thanks to her slow-witted nature. Some of the things that come out of her mouth are absolutely hilarious while others are just plain weird. There always remains a certain charm to her stupidity. I think typical genki character Tomo steals the show, with her wild verbal and physical antics often causing the rest of the cast plenty of grief. Her long-time bespectacled friend Yomi is probably the most normal of the bunch, someone often left to question how she’s been able to put up with Tomo for such a period of time. Pigtailed Chiyo is the ten-year-old prodigy who is the smart character but at the same time a punching bag for the show’s many visual gags. Sakaki is tall, quiet and mysterious, hiding her softer side from her classmates while keeping a cool air about her. Kagura is a tad dense, much like Tomo and Osaka, but with the athletic ability to make up for it. Everyone in this main cast brings something different to the table and because of that there’s variety in the jokes. There’s a little something for everyone in their delivery as well, whether it be some exceptionally well-timed jokes in the dialogue or a raft of great visual gags. Do all of them hit the mark? Definitely not, but the strike rate is high – more so as the series progresses.

Azumanga Daioh takes its sweet time building up its characters and bringing out their personality. The opening third or so of Azumanga Daioh feels a little laborious. There’s a sense of déjà vu with the jokes and it becomes a bit of a patience tester. On the other hand, this build up makes the later episodes somewhat of a payoff. The jokes work not just because they’re funnier and get some variation (they do increase in quality, in my opinion), but because you’re accustomed to the way the characters all react with each other. What may have once felt random, loud or annoying is now something that brings out a smile. The shenanigans of homeroom teachers Yukari and Nyamo are more amusing, Yomi and Tomo’s bickering becomes endearing and Osaka’s outrageous dialogue and decision making gets better and better. They’re a whacky bunch who thrive, from a comical point of view, when we get to know them a bit better. The exaggerated expressions from JC Staff still hold up well even 14 years down the track. The light hearted soundtrack is a perfect suit for the show and the main theme (Shin Gakki) will be stuck in your head for a while. The soundtrack has an ambling quality to it that makes you feel like you’re taking a Sunday morning stroll. Everything about the presentation is calming.

You can’t deny Azumanga Daioh is an anime with a tonne of heart. It covers all the aspects of your standard high school setting, from academics to athletics, while making it relatable and funny at the same time. When something finishes and it can that little sense of emptiness then you know it must have done something right. This managed to do just that, which I never would have believed if you told me at the start that that’s how it would feel. Even though I could only manage a few episodes at a time initially, by the time all 26 had flown by I was left wanting more. If you can endure that slow start, then it will eventually deliver you a colourful cast of characters you’ll come to love. Azumanga Daioh comes highly recommended to lovers of all types of comedy.

A diamond in the rough, that’s for sure. Who could have thought that a show dedicated to the art of sitting down and telling a story could be so engaging? Shouwa Genroku Rakugo Shinjuu has blown me away with its ability to create a thoroughly fleshed-out cast, packed to the brim with personality. I hung on to every word that was said, and in a show revolving heavily around dialogue, that would be critical to helping the anime hit the mark. The performances are always entertaining but always serve that dual purpose of opening up a window into our characters’ lives and their troubles. This ... is a character drama at its sumptuous best. Coupled with some beautiful character design, charming music and expressive animation, Studio DEEN have created the criminally under watched darling of the Winter 2016 season.

Shouwa Genroku Rakugo Shinjuu is a delightful tale, mostly made as wonderful it is by the excellent, dynamic relationship forged between lead characters. The way that the timid and tidy Bon Kikuhiko is at odds with the loud and carefree Shin Hatsutaro helps drive much of the story forward. Their conflicts go a long way to developing their distinct personalities and makes for viewing ranging from side-splittingly funny to tear-jerking. At its simplest explanation, we follow the story of these two men aiming to perfect their Rakugo – the centuries-old art of delivering a story from seated (‘seiza’) position. What makes the anime something memorable however is that it’s not only about Bon and Shin trying to master their craft, but using it to help overcome their own fears and push aside the elements of their life they refuse to face. The beauty of the story is that it accomplishes so much with ease. It even goes out of its way to give commentary on the role that Rakugo has in people’s lives and the gradual decline of the Rakugo industry. These ideas are all woven seamlessly into a wonderful story that wouldn’t feel out of place as a Rakugo piece of its own.

I can’t remember the last time I was so invested in a character relationship as I was between Bon and Shin. Their disgust at the way the other one approaches the world of Rakugo is at odds with an admiration they have for parts of the other person’s personality they feel like they are missing from their own lives. Shin has a natural talent for Rakugo though his methods go against the style that’s popular with the institution. Bon struggles to make a presence on stage and though he maintains a prim and proper approach, he can’t help but feel he’s being left behind. This relationship is packed with a tonne of grey areas and feels like it could break apart or bond closer at any moment. It’s gripping. When romance eventually weaves its way into their lives then the strain takes the story to a whole new level. If you’re a lover of multi-dimensional characters, then our lead two performers will leave you wanting more. A big thumbs up to Bon (Akira Ishida) and Shin’s (Kouichi Yamadera) VA’s who were superb.

Everything Studio DEEN have done in the animation and character design department has been superb. An earthly colour tone makes it feel somewhat like a period piece. Everything has this feeling of being subdued and grounded. Shouwa Genroku Rakugo Shinjuu actually feels like an artwork. Characters have a distinct smirk you’ll quickly come to love or a pained look that you can’t help but empathise with. Animation goes a long way to making Bon and Shin’s performances so entertaining. Very little is lost in translation because their faces manage to convey so much. DEEN aren’t even afraid to put animation towards larger crowds and busy scenes every now. It all feels like a labour of love. This is a true redemption moment for a studio that has become the butt of many jokes over the years, particularly in the animation department.

Smooth jazz, melancholic strings and tender piano songs are never at odds with one another in a beautiful audio package here. They work in harmony to help drive home the comedy or chip away at your heart, but it’s never overwrought. Memorable melodies are to be found everywhere. A massive thank you to composer Kana Shibue for making a stunning debut in the anime industry with a score that manages to play a crucial role in making Shouwa Genroku Rakugo Shinjuu as memorable as it is.

The less you know about Shouwa Genroku Rakugo Shinjuu the better the experience will be. A tale of two men fighting to rise to the top in a dying art is enthralling and magical. It’s a complete package from the art to the voice acting to the music and of course a top-notch story.

It was a cold, uncompromising winter in the early weeks of 2016 but thankfully a new anime had heralded its arrival with a promise warm the world’s hearts. People braved the blizzard of mediocrity to find that one show that could rise to the top and be the ray of sunshine they craved. Boku dake ga Inai Machi (Or known by its English title ‘Erased’) waved its hand high and proud, promising a touching tale of one man’s journey to fix both the past and the present. The show did indeed have a certain glow about it that appealed to me but it’s sad to ... say that it died out into a whimper by the time the curtains had closed.

It’s unsurprising to see the initial widespread interest Erased generated because it had a list of ingredients that when put together could create something special. Time travel? Murder? Mystery? I strapped myself in for what I expected to be a tense experience that would leave me searching for answers. But as anyone would know, you could have a list of the finest ingredients available and in the hands of an incompetent chef it would turn into a disaster. Erased delivers what is an underwhelming execution to a setting that promised more. I was left bitterly disappointed by the show’s conveniences placed into the script and its underwhelming reveals. Despite some memorable scenes, Erased has left little impact on me.

We follow Satoru Fujinuma (Voiced by anime debutants Shinnosuke Mitsushima and Tao Tsuchiya), a 29-year-old manga artist with an ability to go back in time several minutes before some form of tragedy strikes. His ability, which he titles ‘revival’, gives him a chance to change events to prevent any disaster from happening. When one of the most horrifying incidents imaginable befalls him, his ability kicks in. This time however it’s not just minutes but years that Satoru gets sent back. Working with his old school classmates he tries his best to catch a criminal and change the future – or the present he just arrived from depending how you look at it. Realising the significance of the time period he’s found himself in, Satoru starts to dig around for the solution to not just change one but several lives for the better.

The opening episode of Erased was one that left me asking questions – but in a good way. It had easily done enough to get me make me care about what the end result could be. It screamed one thing above all: Potential. There was one big problem that began to develop however and that was the anime betrayed my expectations that it had helped me to establish early on in the piece. Following its presentation of suspects and the crimes in 1988 that took place I was led to believe that we would be dealing with a mystery. Everything in the first couple of episodes pointed the show towards going in that direction, from being shown the wrongfully accused to Satoru playing the detective with his childhood friends. As the episodes progressed, however, I came to realise that there was no chance the show would be taking that route. The perpetrator becomes bleeding obvious far too early on, so all that was left was to see Satoru’s progress in getting closer to them. I couldn’t help but feel that the writers of Erased were treating me, the viewer, like an idiot. Any ‘clues’ they start to throw your way are as subtle as taking a tyre iron to the head. This strange misdirection Erased put me through took me some time to assess and get over.

What I was left with when the show reached its final few episodes was some strange mess caught halfway between a mystery and a thriller, just floundering about and being below average at both genres. For a while there was enough in both respects to keep Erased entertaining. It seemed the less I knew about the overall picture that the more the show had me by the hook. But as it peels away the layers of the story guarding the identity of the culprit it tore away my emotional investment. There aren’t enough interwoven clues in the story to be deemed a rewarding mystery yet there is nowhere near enough tension to labelled a competent thriller. Is there at least some interesting character dynamics to cling on to? Not really. Because the characters at the centre of the conflict aren’t compelling – particularly the culprit – I didn’t find myself on the edge of my seat when I was clearly being prompted to. Erased is, essentially, a show with no identity.

Erased ultimately abandons its ‘mystery’ and spends far too long building up the relationship between Satoru and classmate Kayo Hinazuki in its place. In a rough defence of this, Kayo’s story at least does enough to keep the show watchable. Watching her outlook on the world shift thanks to the events of the show is somewhat satisfying. Aoi Yuuki (Madoka Kaname of Mahou Shoujo Madoka★Magica) is a good choice as Kayo’s voice actress, carrying across a certain bitterness and melancholy to the role of the downtrodden class member. Her arc at least did enough to get me invested in her character but the cast as a whole just didn’t reel me in. Kayo’s angle could only carry the overall story for so long, and it’s clear to see the pacing then kicks up into overdrive to compensate for the lost time. As much as I didn’t mind her screen time, Erased spends too much time making us care for Kayo when Satoru could have used a similar amount of attention. The character interactions suffer because Satoru’s at the centre of most of them. A negative mention must also go towards Kayo’s mother who was a laughably over-malicious character written that way just to stir the pot, looking at baiting an emotional response from the viewer with her abusive antics. The reasons for her behaviour are never explored and thus cheapens the attempt at generating empathy for Kayo.

The writing behind Satoru’s character is bizarre. For a 29-year-old he seems to lose a ton of emotional maturity upon being sent back to his 10-year-old body. On top of that, for someone attempting to play the detective, logic seems devoid from Satoru. He makes some unbelievable decisions throughout the course of the show that might have been excusable for a 10 or 11-year-old to make but not someone with two decades more life experience. It’s almost like the writers forgot to separate his mind from body when writing the scenes set in 1988. There actually isn’t much that’s memorable about Satoru’s character as a whole, whether it be his older or younger self. He’s a standard, cold main character that does nothing to leave an impression. We’re supposed to be following his story but it feels like we’re riding along the coattails of others.

It’s disappointing to see that the show’s writing doesn’t match up to its presentation. There’s a few good visuals utilised to help set the tone. There are some scenes that can even be called drop-dead gorgeous. It’s ultimately a wasted effort because a good script and interesting characters aren’t there to make use of it. The motivations of the perpetrator are glossed over to the point where I even questioned why on earth I even bothered to use my brain to try and search for the answer myself. The reasoning was so unsatisfying it actually made me angry, considering it was what set the entire series into action. I’m not a manga reader of the series but, from what I have discerned, the writers left a massive chunk of information out of this area. The best villains in fiction are flawed for reasons we can understand, when we are given reasons for their actions that we can dwell upon. If you come into Erased expecting something of that sort, then prepare to be left sorely disappointed.

After a first episode that got me hooked Erased began to stall, then ultimately collapse under the weight of all that it was trying to take on in the space of 12 episodes. No amount of decent visuals from A-1 Pictures could fix their clunky handling of the story, mostly forgettable cast and simply shambolic writing choices. Conveniences that lay around every corner go a long way to distracting me from any tension director Tomohiko Itou (Sword Art Online, Gin no Saji) was attempting to layer into the story. There always feels like a way out no matter how cornered or dangerous a situation seems to be. Satoru’s revival ability isn’t explored or explained in great detail, making itself useful at the most convenient of times. Many parts of the story feel irrelevant considering the conclusion the show arrives at. Erased seems like an appropriate title for a show that won't be hanging around in my memory for long.

I’d like to think that I’ve made plenty of ventures into different genres and styles of anime. Part of the fun in consuming the medium for me is finding something new to explore, and throwing myself in the deep end at times has proven to be a worthwhile experience. However, I’d found myself shying away from the realm of idol anime and I’m not too sure why. There was not much that appealed to me or reached out to say ‘you really need to give this a go’. I had to push myself to take a leap of faith and decided to use The Idolm@ster ... to do just that.

The Idolm@ster provided me with a bumpy ride but formed itself into something pleasant by the time the 25 episodes had come to a close. Was I blown away by the visuals, the choreography or the music? Sure, but the reason I enjoyed The Idolm@ster far more than I thought I would is because the show really isn’t about the music and dancing. It’s about the teamwork needed to make that all happen. That really caught me by surprise. It must be said that I’m not really one for the brand of music depicted, with its overly mushy lyrics and the fact that most songs come off as sounding the same to me. I went into the show expecting that to be the focus and have the characterisation poorly tacked on. I was wrong. Even though the cast is pretty much designed to cover all the ranges of emotions and personality types (i.e. the snotty one, the shy one, the mysterious one, the androgynous one etc.) they’re usually fun to watch. The Idolm@ster does a solid job of creating a cast you want to cheer on, even if some of them irritated me to no end.

The Idolm@ster follows 12 girls looking to make their big break in glitzy and glamourous world of idols. They dance, act and sing under the guidance of their producer as they desperately seek out a way to make a bigger name for not only themselves but also their production studio, 765. In the way of a story, as you could imagine, it’s pretty simple. The group take on jobs wherever they can while trying to better understand each other and industry that lays ahead of them. Trouble often strikes in some form, whether it be a wardrobe concern or someone out to sabotage their name. Early on I started to get worried because everything felt so aimless. There all these issues befalling everyone but even when things get resolved it’s back to square one, like nothing has really changed amongst the group as a collective. The comedy seemed to fall flat and the show tended to rely on it too much for its own good. My leap into the genre wasn’t off to the most comfortable of starts.

It’s the latter story arcs of The Idolm@ster that make sitting through the tedious opening half of the show worthwhile. These parts start to actually flesh out the characters, delve into their past and - above all - actually show the importance of depending upon each other. The struggles aren’t just simple filming but instead they create consequences for the group as a whole – and that’s much more engaging for the viewer. The questions the characters ask start to steer away from “How can I improve my image?” to “How can I make sure I’m not letting anyone down?”. While it can be fun to watch the cast act cute, it’s much more impactful and rewarding to watch them all resolve their personal problems. The drama is never overbearing though, thankfully. The show always maintains this sense of optimism without being dark or too serious for its own good. The balance is just right. Because we get to know all the cast that little bit more, watching them battle their way to the show’s conclusion is a fun experience.

The 12 girls themselves are a mixed bag. A handful of them came across as interesting, because you could actually see something holding them back and I was left wondering what it could be. Some are there to provide a bit of comedy. Some I feel were just making up the numbers. It would be fruitless to really harp on about what are ‘strong’ and ‘weak’ characters in the 765 group. Everyone will pick a favourite and latch themselves onto their story and cheer them on. That’s the beauty of a show like this. There will be at least one of them that will strike you as likeable or interesting. Some of them I couldn’t stand but that’s to be expected when you are writing to cover as many personalities as possible to appease to the widest possible audience. Some side characters feel irrelevant, including one comically evil villain, who does a better job at dragging down my enjoyment as opposed to being of great value.

The visuals are a treat. Performances look and sound the part – you can certainly see where the bulk of the budget was directed towards by A-1 Pictures. The vocals are top notch, both in and out of musical performances. The VA work helps breathe distinct identities into the large main cast. Biggest praise from me goes towards Asami Imai (Chihaya Kisaragi) and also Kenji Akabane who is the perfect choice for the loveable and often bumbling Producer.

For all its annoying quirks and characters, The Idolm@ster eventually becomes something a slight cut above average. Edging through the often unbearable opening half of the show at least helped pave the way for something more interesting to come. There’s nothing exactly memorable or mind blowing about The Idolm@ster. If you can come to terms with its often cheesy 'friendship conquers all' mentality then there will be enjoyment to be found. Give the show a try if you want something really simple and easy to watch and might just have you nodding your head along. It’s just a bit of colourful, melodic fun.