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Another fun little romp through fantasy-land, quests to be ventured and gold to be reaped... or maybe not quite.

Welcome to 2018's most controversial anime, Goblin Slayer. Little known by western anime fans, it came much out of nowhere, with a first episode that made viewers aghast and the social medias ablaze. And why, you may ask. I will have to leave that unanswered for a moment, as you should not yet be reading this review if you are unfamiliar with what scene I am referring to. But I will leave a word of caution: you should probably not watch Goblin Slayer if you are ... easily disturbed.

Spoilers of the first episode, necessarily, will follow.

What transpires in the first episode overshadows everything that comes in the following eleven episodes. And so, this review will be centered primarily on the first episode and its resulting controversy. Though I will also be discussing the artistic merits of the anime as a whole, this will be as much a critical analysis as it is a response, an answer of sorts to whether the controversy Goblin Slayer brewed ever had any meaning in the first place.

And, I will tell you, no, it really did not.

From the second episode onward, a 'viewer discretion' warning appears in the subtitles provided by Crunchy Roll. But nowhere does it appear in the show itself, in Japanese. It is quite clear who was actually offended by this show... and it was not the Japanese audience, for whom this anime was made.

I'm going to be quite blunt, as this perception that westerners' views are always, unquestionably important is bothersome. Japanese anime studios do not care about what English-speaking YouTubers have to say, for they cannot even understand them in the first place. They do not care about Tumblr, nor do they care about anyone except viewers in Japan who could potentially buy BluRay discs of their series. They are companies, not political organisations. They are from Japan, not from the United States. The only thing the west could do to make an anime studio utter more than a flippant 'oops, sorry' is to have a spot on CNN or some other giant television network, in the same vein as the infamous adult game, 'Rapelay'. So, unfortunately, if you think yourself a sort of champion of justice, destined to rid the world of all portrayals and even mentions of rape, in countries you have never even visited and which do not share your beliefs— then, sorry to say, your words have fallen upon deaf ears.

If you have ever played a visual novel, read adult-oriented manga or watched an R-18 anime (and the Japanese audience for Goblin Slayer most certainly has), then sexual assault, as vile and irredeemable an act as it is, is not particularly unusual or shocking. I suppose it may be shocking in the context of Goblin Slayer being a TV anime, in which these sorts of acts are seldom depicted. But you also have to keep in mind that Goblin Slayer airs past midnight on a weekend, well into the usual watershed hours of western television. Kids are not meant to be watching this in the first place. And sexual assault is not rare in late-night anime so much because it is 'going overboard', but because the anime community in Japan is obsessed with the concept of virginity and do not take kindly to their imaginary characters being touched by a man other than them. Hence, the reason for why sex is not so much as mentioned in non-erotic anime, whether it be consensual or not. If sex is not graphically depicted (i.e. genitals showing and thrusting and all), then it is, generally speaking, safe to air past midnight on Japanese television. Goblin Slayer's now infamous scene, unpleasant as it is to watch, was not especially graphic. It did not black-out and fast-forward to the end as most anime do, and so while this scene is not entirely innocent (true, it is difficult to not feel at least a little bit sick in the stomach), it is hardly the traumatic viewing experience that some claim it to be. Say, for example, "13 Reasons Why", a western Netflix series, was far, far more graphic in its depiction of similar subjects and yet it was extremely popular among western teenagers, particularly females. But when an obscure late-night anime aimed at a completely different culture, and with drawings instead of real actors, tries to tread the same waters? Take it down. Take it all down, they say. Right. Good luck with that one.

I suppose the deeper question, then, is whether these scenes were actually necessary. I highly doubt these scenes were meant to be erotic, to arouse its viewers when they were preceded by a brutal stabbing and a brutal massacre. And the attempted rape that follows the first is abominable enough that it defies any and all human logic, clearly meant to invoke deep feelings of hatred for goblins rather than a boner-pop and an "oh yeah, baby, show me more." Goblin Slayer showed these scenes to create a sense of danger and to make you root for the titular character's, uh, titular slaying of said goblins. And fair enough. But equally fair is the question of why they chose rape in particular, rather than some other wretched act that would make you want to see goblin heads hitting the floor. Hatred was necessary for the story to continue, but not so much rape itself. My guess is the author chose that route because other fantasy series such as Re:Zero have already done the same with violence alone. The author wanted to set their series apart, to invoke a sort of hatred that anime-only viewers have rarely or perhaps never experienced before, and, well, the result of that is laid bare for all to see: angry westerners, and Japanese fans who just want to see some dead-ass goblins.

It is not so much from an artistic perspective that I am defending the author's choice, however. Gratuitous and pretentious, it is, when what follows in the later episodes is of little importance and does not in any meaningful way make use of the hatred instilled in the audience. Rather, it returns to the exact same silly and carefree tone of the anime's opening few minutes, as if it what happened in the first episode was just some sort of dream. Heck, the second episode may as well have been the beginning episode— the first completely obliterated from existence— and little would change at all with regards to the story and the characters. Goblin Slayer does not contain much in the way of themes other than 'goblins suck' and 'revenge begets revenge', and the trauma the heroine experienced during her first encounter is hardly touched upon or even acknowledged afterwards. Indeed, after an experience that horrifying, you would expect the heroine to, if nothing else, be apprehensive about another goblin slaying adventure, but by the next day she gives almost zero damns and throws herself to the protagonist's side merely because he is tough and can protect her, I guess? A bit of an idiot, indeed. Other characters will casually talk about their traumatic experiences as the camera pans lustfully over their breasts... almost as if it is a joke, making it pretty well clear the anime has no intention of taking these issues seriously. How are you supposed to care for characters that don't even know how to care about themselves? In the end, the main thing that sets the rest of the anime (everything sans the first episode) apart from any other fantasy series is the level of blood involved. Goblin Slayer is a strong dude, the heroine is cute, and screw goblins— there you go, Goblin Slayer's deep themes interpreted by yours truly.

If a darker fantasy anime in the lieu of Berserk is something you are clamoring for (as, well, there really are not a whole lot of them), then Goblin Slayer is if nothing else a serviceable adventure. The titular protagonist, Goblin Slayer, is essentially a more calm and composed version of Guts from Berserk: taciturn, a dark past, filled with hatred and a desire for vengeance, armor and all... albeit with a sword a size that humans can actually wield. His cold but logical manner of speaking are refreshing in a genre that is largely defined by self-righteous protagonists spouting idealistic nonsense. Goblin Slayer will save whom he can, but he is also capable of recognising the limits of his power and putting those with mortal wounds out of their misery. He knows that fighting requires planning and a clear head just as much as it requires strength. An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth is his way of living, but he does not try to moralise his lifestyle, instead believing that his endless lust for revenge makes him just as violent and as brutal as the goblins themselves. He has a sort of awareness and intellect that most anime protagonists lack, which makes the desolate world he lives in feel just a little bit more authentic. But those who are not a fan of darker or more morally ambiguous protagonists will only find the anime more unappealing with his presence. "Edgy", "pretentious", others might say. Considering that one's enjoyment of Goblin Slayer is almost entirely decided by their interest in the protagonist, and consequently his goblin slaying journey, those who do not find these sorts of characters appealing are well within their right to dislike the anime as a whole. But to say he is dark merely for the sake of being dark would be something of a lie. No, he is dark because he grew up in an awful world with rapey, murderous goblins.

Considering the natural path for most fantasy anime is to gradually hunt stronger and stronger monsters, the fact that Goblin Slayer is perpetually chasing weaker monsters— goblins— and even being ostracised for it by his fellow adventurers, is a refreshing change of pace for a genre that is often so predictable that you can already guess the events of the final episode based on the first. Sure, those in search of climactic fights may find themselves bored with an adventure that stays at largely the same difficulty level for its entire duration (with the rare boss battle here and there), but then again, how many times does one need to see a big bad dude or a dragon slain before they are satisfied? While most anime increase the stakes as the opponents get stronger, Goblin Slayer is able to portray weak little creatures as menacing, something few anime do, slimes and goblins brushed aside as if it is a necessity. The issue is that Goblin Slayer, despite it having a clear, singular focus with goblins as the villain, never really does or say a whole lot with them. They are almost entirely identical to one another, existing to rape, kill or be killed and little else. When the antagonist of a story lacks a motive and a personality, it's kinda hard to care much about where things go in the end.

Goblin Slayer is neither horrible nor is it great. And sometimes it is both. Putting aside all the noise surrounding the series, and looking at it as a piece of fiction like any other, what is left is merely a decent dark-fantasy anime. Its artistic merit is hardly comparable to its big brother, Berserk, and while there are very severe issues afflicting the show, in a season where truly abysmal, irredeemable rubbish such as "Ore ga Suki nano wa Imouto dakedo Imouto ja Nai" has aired, Goblin Slayer is not what I could consider a bad anime. There's enough of interest here with the protagonist and the setting that I am at least considering reading the light novels in Japanese, where perhaps things are a bit better explained. Those regarding Goblin Slayer as the worst anime they've seen are more likely than not fishing for attention by exaggerating their opinions as much as possible. Either that, or they have just not watched a whole lot of anime, I would have to guess.

But to say I am a fan of Goblin Slayer, or that I even liked it would to be as dishonest as saying I hated it. My defense of Goblin Slayer is my defense of the author's right to artistic freedom. Being offended by this show is reasonable. Using said offense to try and shut down an author's livelihood, or to generalise an entire country of 130 million people as perverts or as morally bankrupt, is not. Some may even say it is despicable. And, you know, I think there is some truth in that.

So, feel free to watch Goblin Slayer if you enjoy dark-fantasy and have a tolerance for uncomfortable content. Or skip it, because truth told, Goblin Slayer was never really worth caring that much about in the first place.

Over the past 10 years of watching anime, there have been hundreds of stinkers, truly dreadful shows that have tested my tolerance to its utmost limits, but, gee, I think we've found the stinker of all stinkers with this one.

That is to say, "Ore ga Suki nano wa Imouto dakedo Imouto ja Nai" (or however the hell you are supposed to abbreviate this dumb, dumb, cretinous title) is the worst TV anime I've ever seen. Yes, number one, and without any hyperbole intended. It doesn't get any uglier than this, and I do mean so literally as well as figuratively...

Let me showcase the amazing ... dialogue with one of the show's finer moments:

"Yes, I'm the up-and-coming author, Enryuu Homura!"
*gasps so hard he is practically dying* "I'm a huge fan! Please give me your autograph!"
"You're a fan... a fan of my... ? This is humiliating. I'm the one who wants an autograph!"
"Hey, what do you mean, you want my autograph?"
"Are you even listening to me? I want your autograph!"
"Y-you want my autograph? B-but why?"
"Isn't that obvious? I'm a huge fan of yours, Towano."
"Hawuuuhhhh??"

Oh, there is plenty more, deeply intelligent, riveting content, such as a five minute discussion on what it means to flash one's panties, the protagonist dressed in bondage clothing and whipped by his little sister until the crack of dawn, him sniffing and fondling his sister's hair during a live radio interview, or some random girl the protagonist has only known for about two days cosplaying in his bedroom to test what does and what doesn't make him pop a boner, because apparently that is relevant to writing fiction. Where she even got her cosplay outfit is a mystery only the heavens can unfold, because, really, who in the hell carries around a succubus outfit for no reason? "Ah, at long last, an occasion has presented itself for me to wear this succubus outfit I've carried around all these years." Perhaps she cast some incantation to summon it from the abyss? Who knows. Whatever.

Every asinine, ludicrous trope a light novel adaptation could possibly have (yes, even in 2018, apparently) is present here: the obligatory beach scene (complete with lewd lotion-lathering), girls screaming at Yuu (the protagonist) for walking in on them changing clothes, an unnecessary harem, and like its mouth-breathing brother, Infinite Stratos, all members of said harem are for some reason attracted to the protagonist despite him having the same level of appeal as a cockroach. I don't even want to refer to the protagonist by his name since he doesn't deserve the honor of having one. So, actually, in the unfortunate event that I must discuss this show again, he will remain 'the protagonist'. That sounds a lot better, sort of like I've rinsed my mouth of bacteria.

I present a challenge: try watching an entire episode of this show without shuddering or saying 'ugh' in response to the hideous faces the characters make. It's a bit of a difficult one, alright. Whereas many poorly-animated TV series are infamous for a few particular screenshots, eye-cancer here and there (say, Naruto Shippuden), here it is that but all the time. It is so bad that sometimes the characters' eyes are not even aligned and instead are facing opposite directions, as if they are truly and completely mentally void, or are just... uh, ant-people? Even a climactic confession scene is brimming with ant-people for your viewing pleasures.

The 'music'... music? Can you call it that? A, B, A, B - random, senseless notes played repetitively on a piano, like a kindergartner who has discovered a piano for the first time and thinks any noise it makes is special. "Wow, you're so good!", says mommy. Clap-clap. Why they even bothered to include these tracks is a wonder, considering how much less ear-piercing some good ol' silence would have been instead. No, having music for the sake of having music is not always a good idea, but when has this anime ever shown itself capable of good ideas, anyway?

All that is even remotely tolerable about this giant turd of an anime is its opening and ending themes. Mostly for the music, and definitely not for the putrid animation, but rather for the lack of it since these sequences are essentially slideshows. Any time things start moving is when things get real ugly, and so I can only be thankful for the few seconds when the damn show doesn't move.

It is pretty well remarkable how much of a disaster the production process of this anime has been. Even the animators recognise the abysmal state of their anime, what with their subtle cry for help in the ending credits of the sixth episode, where they changed one of the names to 正直困太, which can be translated as "Honestly, we're in a bit of a mess." This is perhaps unprecedented for a TV anime. Though I do not know the actual situation at the anime studio, it is pretty clear the animators were both understaffed and forced into impossible deadlines (and thus had to cut corners... all of them, to meet said deadlines), because, really, there is no sane person on this planet who would look at the animation and think "Yep, this is totally good to go for broadcast." Even the most terrible of terrible anime at least put some semblance of effort into covering up their blemishes: here, it is in full, putrid glory.

And so, "Ore ga Suki nano wa Imouto dakedo Imouto ja Nai" will be remembered by those unfortunate enough to watch it. It is an anime that truly goes for it, being as dreadful as possible in every and all aspects. I can't even find the energy to lambaste it to the extent I did with my previously most-hated anime, Infinite Stratos 2, for in this case it is so pathetic it actually transcends words. The worst TV anime I've ever endured, and congratulations for that, as it was not an easy feat.

Like a train that has tipped over and burst into flames and debris, this is something you would be best not to approach. Put a hazard warning on this one.

If Free's second season was an improvement for the series, its third season is its all-time low.

Free, in its best moments, may not have been anything more than mildly enjoyable (if teetering the line between 'fanservice' and outright pandering), but in this case it has fallen below even being tolerable. Nonstop, incessant melodrama, focused not on the main characters but split between the dozens of irrelevant side characters around them who nobody watching the show actually cares half a dingdong about. Any humor or relaxing little moments are gone, with an endless barrage of melodrama from opening credits to ending credits. Yes, if that sounds ... interesting to you, by all means, have yourself a blast.

There are so many bloody characters in Dive to the Future that you will often forget who is who. KyoAni also assumes that everyone who watches Dive to the Future has also watched the prequel movie, High Speed, so you're also expected to care for characters you have probably never seen, or hardly remember. Depending on the way you divide things up, there are at bare minimum three different sets of characters, all largely doing their own thing for most of the season (one of these groups even living on a completely different side of the damn planet), with few important, and mostly minor connections holding them together. The high school group in particular is almost entirely irrelevant to the rest of the plot, them still existing only to appease fans of their characters who wanted to see more. Even by the final episode, there were still new characters being introduced, and by that point I had long since lost my patience. The ludicrous amount of subplots going on between Dive to the Future's seven million characters means there is so little time spent on each character that the viewer cannot get emotionally invested in any of them. It's like being given fifty dishes to sample, except all you get to taste from each of them is a tiny, minuscule amount on the tip of your tongue: would anyone actually feel full after that?

To say I had any fun at all watching Dive to the Future would be a lie. Whereas most anime at least try to intersperse the drama with a light-hearted scene here and there, the melodrama in Dive to the Future is all there is. It is the entirety of the show, with not a single moment to breathe. By the time I had finished watching even one episode, I would already be fatigued enough to want a damn break. While the first and second seasons of Free also had plenty of the 'ol melodrama to go around, it was nowhere near the onslaught it is here. Ikuya is waxing philosophical about not being able to see the stars, and I think, well, gee, you live in the most urban country in the world and somehow the word 'pollution' doesn't exist in your head. Hey, maybe I'm just dead inside, but I think it has more to do with how it is impossible to empathise with any word the characters utter. Dive to the Future is processed through your ears and your eyeballs, but never through your brain or your heart.

Some of the characters (Nagisa, for one-- boy, would I love to strangle this little dickweed at times) are infuriating as hell and do not even behave as actual people do. There's the flashback with Ikuya in the hospital, for example, where he smiles and giggles like a little schoolgirl whose mommy just bought him a new dollie. I suppose KyoAni believes that male characters should act 'moe' in the same way that female characters do, as if men and women in Japan somehow have the exact same mannerisms and behaviours (breaking news: they don't). Oh, and the white-haired foreign-dude's voice actor was such an awful match for his character that it was actually laughable. I think KyoAni had a grand slammin' total of one English voice actor available, and just handed him the job as their token foreigner, because, well, to be fair, Japanese people have no clue how white people actually speak.

I guess if you like gay stuff, Dive to the Future is pretty gay. There are scenes like when Hiyori tells Ikuya to forget about other dudes (and look only at Hiyori), as he towers over a submissive Ikuya laying on his back. Cue rockin' dupstep. Buuu-wuu-wuu. Everyone in this show is rainbow-ass-coloured gay, but KyoAni is only interested in teasing and playing pretend, for better or for worse, depending on how you prefer your gayness served.

Unsurprisingly, there is no real conclusion to the story, with your sole reward for watching the show being a "See you again in 2020!" announcement in the final few seconds. Um, thanks, but rather than more seasons, I'd have been much happier to see an actual ending to this one, which would have been possible if the show just focused a wee bit more on Haru's and Rin's central struggles and rivalry with one another, rather than all the superfluous rubbish surrounding the other forty-billion characters.

I fail to see the purpose in Dive to the Future, in 2018, five full years after the first season, when hardly anyone except the most hardcore of fans still care about Free. And another sequel in the works? For what purpose, exactly? They cannot do anything of value with such a massive cast of characters by throwing another measly twelve episodes at it. Surely there's better creative and monetary endeavors that could be pursued instead, and, well, I guess there are, what with the coming of their next fangirl-friendly series, Tsurune, this fall.

KyoAni always envisions these grand ideas on paper, but then give up midway when it comes to actually realising said idea. Were there twice or thrice as many episodes, a decent story might have been feasible, but with a cast this large and only twelve episodes, it makes you wonder if KyoAni is only capable of thinking in dreams, with reality somehow a distant concept to them. As long as they give the appearance of being something, so too do they believe they will truly become said thing. It's a bit like cosplay: if you're pretty and you act the part well enough, some who don't know any better might just assume you are the real thing.

Anyone who has not already given After the Rain a go will more than likely have some serious reservations about watching an anime apparently centered upon some middle-aged dude getting with a high school girl. A glance at the premise and a quick 'no thank you', most people's experience with this anime will be a few seconds at best.

True, even when one puts aside the moral implications of such a romance, these sorts of encounters are often left to erotic fiction (the sort people would do their best to enjoy in complete and utter secrecy) and rarely depicted or even acknowledged in any serious ... context. The man is a manipulator, a pervert, and the girl merely a confused soul. There is no happy ending to be sought, for the situation itself is a crisis without salvation.

If I told you After the Rain is one of the more innocent and heart-warming anime I've seen, would you believe me?

After the Rain is something unique in the entertainment industry. It takes a profoundly controversial topic and focuses not on its moral content, but depicts instead a story of ordinary, decent people merely put into a difficult situation. A young girl develops an innocent crush on someone older than she who she admires and looks up to, and the man, recognizing the obvious issues with such a difference in age, does his best to dissuade her and lead her back to an ordinary teenage life. There is no sexual tension, no outright physical romance; the two often describe their relationship as something more akin to friendship, even if it may not necessarily be platonic. Perhaps things will stay that way, or perhaps the girl will reach adulthood and find her feelings to stay true. I didn't find the outcome so important. After the Rain exists to capture a moment in time, a slice-of-life anime truer to its genre than nearly all surrounding it.

A significant portion of the anime depicts the daily lives of the two protagonists (Tachibana and Kondou) and their co-workers at 'Garden', a family restaurant modeled after the real-world Japanese restaurant 'Gusto'. While most events at Garden are linked in some way to Tachibana's and Kondou's relationship, so too do we see the relationships between the other workers, and get a glimpse at what it is like to work at a Japanese family restaurant. Though these co-workers are hardly developed beyond their one-dimensional comedy relief or jerkass-dude-who-should-be-kicked-and-then-punched-in-the-nutsack roles, their presence serves as a simple reminder that Tachibana and Kondou are just two ordinary souls in a big, bustling city.

Anime has taught us that confessions are meant to be the peak, the conclusion of a romance—that telling someone you like them may as well be asking for their hand in marriage—but for After the Rain, “I like you” is merely the start of their story. Those expecting a long, protracted build-up to the confession may find themselves disappointed, but if you are a bit more like me and prefer to see characters behaving naturally as humans actually do, the pacing in this case is far more appropriate. How could it end with a quick "yes" or "no", anyway, when the question is such a difficult one to answer?

Though the first few episodes create the impression that the story's primary focus is upon this complicated relationship, Tachibana and Kondou are carefully characterised and developed in other, more multi-dimensional ways. Tachibana is confronted throughout the anime with the consequences of her withdrawal from the track and field club and the strained, awkward relationship with her closest friend, worsening with each day she has left the club. Kondou isn't just some happy-go-lucky 40-something-year-old, but a complicated individual who struggles with reconciling his dreams with reality and of his clinging to the past. Though it is rarely mentioned—likely as he does not want to mention it himself—it is strongly implied that Kondou is still hurt by his separation from his ex-wife and the difficulties of raising his son in this environment. These are issues shared by many real, living and breathing people of their age groups, and the result is that you can identify with the two and give more than a damn about their problems.

It is also worth noting how accurate the anime's depiction of its setting, Yokohama, truly is. Famous landmarks of the city such as the Cosmo Clock 21 Ferris wheel and Akarenga Warehouses (though, by God, did I ever hate visiting that place with its floods of tourists) are shown regularly throughout the anime, as well as the actual train lines (the Tokyu Meguro) and individual stations (Takadanobaba) of the Tokyo region. The cheap, boisterous nature of the pub Kondou and his old friend visit, along with the drink bars and parfaits on the family restaurant's menu brought a smile to me and made me feel right at home. Though I doubt people who have not lived in the Tokyo area would notice or care much about these details, they do well in making the story feel more real than imaginary.

After the Rain has a few minor issues—major, depending on your preferences. The ending is abrupt and does not resolve anything, resembling more the ending of any ordinary episode of the show rather than for the story in its entirety. Kondou's and Tachibana's personal struggles remain ongoing, their relationship still undecided, as though we only got about a third of the way through the story before the book was suddenly slammed shut. The reason why Tachibane loves Kondou is never really made clear—although I suppose you could argue that you don’t need a reason to love someone—and her behaviour regarding him, while cute, can occasionally be a bit creepy and uncomfortable to watch, what with her squealing and squirming in bed like some five-year-old who just got new dollies from mommy. One of her co-workers, the one I so described as a jerkass, detracts from the cute, innocent nature of the anime and briefly turns it instead into some borderline netorare thing. Everything surrounding that situation was frustrating—though I reckon that being frustrated only once by an anime isn't such a bad thing, maybe.

I can't convince everyone to look beyond the anime's premise, especially with how heated these sorts of topics have become in today’s political climate. But for anime fans willing to go a teeny bit outside of their comfort zone, or even for those who are just fans of slice-of-life anime, After the Rain is a thoroughly enjoyable and heart-warming little adventure. There's nothing so special about it to deserve high praise, but odds are, it will brighten up a rainy day.

Made in Abyss isn't at all what it appears to be. Though it may seem little more than an adventurous children's anime, chibi art and all, it gradually reveals itself as something much darker, as Riko's and Reg's hopeless ascent continues, stumbles along, no happy ending in sight, death— and worse— awaiting them for each step they fall.

Many anime give off the facade of maturity: gratuitous gore, sadistic and loony villains, self-serving themes ripped from entry-level philosophers such as Nietzsche - features that make a story palatable to rebellious teenagers, rather than the adults they so desperately wish to be.

But Made in Abyss doesn't fall ... into these trappings. It contains graphic, violent scenes, occasionally even outright disturbing, but never is there a moment where it feels unnecessary. It is a story of adventure, of survival, and of finding life within death.

Made in Abyss has one of the most interesting settings in anime. A city built around a giant pit, gaping downwards for tens of thousands of metres, its nature unknown, treasure and terrifying beasts awaiting any who wish to test their luck. What's at the very bottom of the pit? How deep can one truly go before death is an inevitability? In many ways, the pit is reminiscent of Hell: for each layer they reach, they encounter something more ghastly than the last, the stench of death progressively growing stronger. But Riko and Reg press onward, determined to find Riko's mother, no matter if they succumb to the dangers and find themselves a permanent resident of the abyss.

While there exists ample world-building, the story instead puts the focus on the duo rather than the world at large, preferring instead to carefully reveal the details of the world through their eyes and ears, evolving the viewer from mere spectator to active participant. You don't know much about the pit's third and fourth layers until they reach that part themselves, and the fifth and beyond remain a complete mystery because nobody has ever actually survived to tell the tale. It's an elegant way to keep the viewer interested: I don't want to be told what to expect - I want to see for myself what monsters and contamination and other awfulness await the further they fall, and so I find myself with the next episode playing as soon as the credits hit roll.

It can be difficult for some (myself included) to empathise with child characters in anime, but Made in Abyss does an excellent job of making the viewer concerned about and emotionally invested in the survival of Riko and Reg. Their friendship with one another is deeply heart-warming, as they have, much like real children, no ulterior motives, and genuinely enjoy their time together. They rely on one another, their abilities complimenting the other's: intellect and cooking in Riko's case, and combat and acrobatics in Reg's. There is no journey without the other— it is either two or it is zero. And so it is difficult not to have a visceral emotional response when one of the two is desperately, miserably trying to save the other's life.

Some caution should be taken when watching Made in Abyss, as it is by no means a happy adventure. With every episode, there is fear that one of them may die, that they may be betrayed, that they may become permanently disfigured or forced to kill or commit some other horrid act. This is seldom a concern for most anime, as the protagonists will always survive and reach some sort of happy ending to their story. But not Made in Abyss. It makes very clear that bad things are inevitable, which, given the setting, is perhaps only appropriate. Corpses, vomit, grossly deformed wounds, blood bleeding from and seeping into the eyeballs— Made in Abyss is by no means something that should ever be viewed by children, and even adults would do well to prepare themselves if they are not accustomed to these sorts of horrors. The abyss is not a wonderful land of treasure, but an awful place where awful things happen.

There are still some minor issues with the story, however. Most prominent is the fact that there is as of yet no actual ending, something I did not realise until the final episode when I looked at the source material and found out that, oh, the manga was still ongoing. This ceases to be a problem in the event of future seasons and adaptations, but will there be any? Will this be where the anime ends, in the middle of their journey? "Hey, this is the end of the anime, so go and read the manga" is not quite what you want to hear when you are emotionally invested in an anime. But, I suppose, a faithful, if potentially incomplete adaptation is still preferable to the dreadful anime-only endings that plague many unfortunate adaptations. The story is too grand in scale, too personal for it to end after only thirteen episodes.

The story could have also done without the more sexual situations— the references to penises, and one ungraceful moment where Reg returns from trying to save someone's life, only to blush and freak out immediately after when he sees Riko being undressed. With how serious the mood was at that point in the story, it effectively killed all the tension that had been building for the entire episode. That's not to imply this scene existed to create sexual arousal in the audience— Made in Abyss has more integrity than that— as she was being undressed solely for health reasons, but certainly it was not a scene that felt in any way necessary. There's a time and place in the story for comedic relief, and that was not the time.

Made in Abyss is fairly impressive in terms of its sound and artwork. The background music starts adventurous and gradually becomes more ominous as the story progresses, even if the ending theme remains almost hilariously light-hearted and incongruently so— its lyrics being more appropriate to Barney & Friends than a graphic life-or-death struggle. While the artstyle may not be to everyone's taste, it at least remains detailed and consistent throughout the series (the map after the ending sequence being a nice addition), although there are perhaps two or three odd moments during the action sequences where the animation will suddenly become sketchy, for reasons that are mystery to me.

In one of the weakest seasons for anime, where interesting series may well be nonexistent, Made in the Abyss is a genuine surprise. While I might reserve claims such as it being the best anime of the year (Sangatsu no Lion takes that one for me), it is a truly special anime, one which had me worried and invested in the characters' fate in a way that very few anime ever have.

I want to see a future where Riko and Reg return to a happy life on the surface. But, much like them, I am determined to see their journey to its end, no matter the result.

Hajimete no Gal is the perfect representation of the dreck the anime industry tirelessly manufactures: vapid harem twaddle devoid of spirit and interested solely in selling BluRays to wide-eyed otaku who think seeing uncensored anime panties is a wonderful way to spend 5000 yen. The reality is that Hajimete no Gal is worth less than a meal at Matsuya.

The difference between a harem anime that is well-received versus one that is not is that the popular ones tend to have a certain level of craftsmanship: they look nice-- particularly when focusing on the curvature of the female cast-- and have catchy openings and voice ... acting to drive the senses awild. If one was looking simply for some cheaply-produced masturbation fodder, why not, after all, just watch some 'hentai' (as the boys in the west call it) instead?

Hajimete no Gal begs that question repeatedly.

It is deeply uncertain about whether it wants to be a serious romance or flat-out pornography, and so it attempts to be both. And thus it fails to an almost astounding level.

Repeatedly (often more times in a single episode than can be counted with one hand) the anime will showcase the excessively-censored fantasies of Junichi-- the worthless protagonist-- where Yame and other members of the obligatory harem troupe force themselves on him sexually, begging for sex in the middle of a classroom, a karaoke booth, or some other absurd location that few would ever consider a good idea. Of course this exists because the anime does not have the courage to legitimately have sexual relationships portrayed within the show, and of course it leverages these scenes as an excuse to sell more BluRay copies to sexless otaku who have never walked into an R-18 store before.

The 'romance' of Hajimete no Gal may well be nonexistent, as Yame and the rest of the female cast never give a single reason for why they are interested in Junichi, much less why they so crave his penis. Yame agrees to go out with him, presumably, because she finds him fun to tease - but then blushes like a 10-year-old at the idea of a kiss. What? I'm sorry, but if you're going to sell an anime on the basis of it having a cast of gal characters - the gal trend being defined by promiscuity - then they should actually be such. If you wish to portray a story with toddlers who think 'indirect kisses' are a thing (and, good lord, this show has that aplenty), then please look to KyoAni's Chuunibyou for inspiration instead of hardcore pornography.

Junichi makes Ichika from Infinite Stratos and Rito from To Love-Ru seem tolerable by comparison. He is a spineless loser whose only goal in life is to lose his virginity (as if anyone in Japan these days actually cares if a high school student hasn't had sex), yet when presented with the opportunity to have sex, cowers like a baby or imposes self-righteousness upon them as if he is now somehow above having sex despite his constant, pathetic attempts at such for the entire series. His friends poke fun at how he might be a cuckold, but in reality, he is the embodiment of one, doing nothing when she sees another man hit on his supposed girlfriend, later throwing a tantrum about how worthless he is and how she deserves that man instead, only to get jealous when he later sees them talk to each other. Whining about how pathetic you are is not an attractive feature, and Yame and crew would do well to leave him aside until he grows up and grows a pair - something unlikely to happen in the event of future seasons. (Let us hope such events never come to pass.)

The rest of the cast is also comprised of cretinous wastes-of-space who do nothing to enhance the quality of the show or make it any less infuriating. You have Nene, the obligatory childhood friend character, massive (and frankly impossibly so) breasts included, who refers to Junichi as "onii-chan" and who he of course disregards despite her sex appeal and constant advances because, hey, treating your old friends like trash is a cool thing for anime protagonists to do. Other additions include Yui-- I had to look up her name as I couldn't remember it-- who is conveniently a lewd Nico Nico Douga streamer despite her rich, 'flawless' behavior at school, and Ranko (her name being a pun on the Japanese word for gangbangs...) whose only purpose in the anime is to beat people up, yell at Junichi and attempt to force sex upon him (sometimes both occurring simultaneously). Finally, there is Yame's aforementioned male friend-- a cackling douchebag and dreadful antagonist who behaves in no way resembling an actual human being-- and Junichi's three, pathetic friends who do little else but act jealous towards him and follow him around in the event that one of his harem members might so much as glance in their direction. If the only thing defining these kids and keeping their friendship together is their virginity, then, hey, maybe they were never actually friends in the first place?

Thankfully, there are only ten episodes, presumably because they used so many tropes that there are no longer any more cards left to pull from the hat. Onsens scenes, beach scenes where the protagonist lathers lotion onto the girls-- you name it. All the asinine trash the anime industry loves is here for your eyes and ears to feast upon. Hooray. Yahoo.

Hajimete no Gal looks cheap and sounds cheap. None of the fantasy scenes are arousing in any way, nor are the obscured pantyshots the show is so desperately marketing. It has about the same production quality as the average pornographic anime, which makes it a wonder why it couldn't have just been such instead. Even with the decreased characterisation and story a pornographic format would have involved, it would still have been a better anime. At least then it might actually be transparent and honest with itself.

I'm going to be quite blunt. Hajimete no Gal sucks. It is not quite abysmal, nor does it win the award for worst harem anime (Infinite Stratos is still a bit more egregious), but it still sucks. Don't watch things that suck.

For better and for worse (mostly worse), Eromanga-sensei is the successor to OreImo and its themes of sister-banging. But where OreImo had some interesting things to say about the otaku community, Eromanga-sensei possesses nothing, and is nothing, puerile and creatively bankrupt.

Eromanga-sensei in many ways represents everything that is bad with light novels. It is a story (I guess, if we put aside its flagrantly incestual nature) of a group of twelve-to-fifteen-year-olds who are famous artists, as if adults do not and cannot exist. If Eromanga-sensei was taking inspiration from the scribbles of a bunch of middle school students, its rubbish writing would actually make ... a great deal of sense.

Stop me if you've heard this one before: the protagonist and a sexy lady, both being inexperienced in the affairs of love, try to imitate romantic situations with one another as a source of creative inspiration. No? How about the protagonist's rival conveniently being revealed as a cute girl who is desperately in love with him? Or the heroine angrily retreating to her room and screaming "bakaaa!" as the camera pans away? See, Eromanga-sensei isn't an anime that is particularly concerned with sharing anything you haven't already seen in dozens or hundreds of other equally brain-dead romantic comedies. (And seriously, if I have to watch another anime with a hikikomori heroine who is portrayed as some goddess of attraction, I'm going to have an aneurysm.)

I suppose the difference here is that Eromanga-sensei is neither romantic nor comedic. It sure as hell is not funny (unless you are the type who thinks burping is the pinnacle of comedic genius), and its 'romance' is merely a thinly-veiled attempt to make it seem somewhat less like masturbation fodder. Fodder which, by the way, has a regularly sexualised heroine who is only twelve-years-old. Let that sink in for a second: twelve-years-old. She is twelve, and the anime frequently displays detailed shots of her ass, her panties, her naked body, and so forth, and even thinks it is amusing to have her friend (who is the same age, by the way) howling about how she loves penises. Yeah. Really.

Even if lolicon pornography does not bother you, it would be an impossible task to claim this contributes to the story or the characters in any meaningful way. It actively sabotages whatever emotional value it tries to create between Sagiri and Masumune's relationship, and makes it impossible to take seriously anything that happens or could conceivably happen. For example, the anime will reveal Masamune's tragic past in the span of about one minute, and then immediately open the next episode with a girl clad in her bikini and flirting with him. Eromanga-sensei doesn't even do the incest part right since it is more concerned with creating some periphery harem for Masamune than it is with developing his feelings for Sagiri beyond "hey I like you lol." It is stupid on the level of KonoSuba and yet has the audacity to pretend without a hint of sarcasm that it is some touching story. No.

It is actually a fairly sad result when compared to the author's previous work, OreImo. OreImo, flawed and infuriating as it was, actually put a great deal of time into making Kirino and Kyosuke's feelings for one another feel meaningful. Kirino was no doubt insufferable, but by the end, you could at least look at her as something more than an assortment of tropes and incest appeal. Likewise, it also went into a fair amount of detail with regards to the life of a stereotypical otaku. It represented Comiket, eroge, offline meetings, and the conflict people can have when they possess hobbies they are ashamed of. It was no Genshikan, but OreImo did at least try to contribute something to the industry with more appeal than "well, gee, banging your sister sounds like a fun idea."

The same cannot be said for Eromanga-sensei, which does and says nothing about the industry. Any moment when it does display the struggles of Masamune's career, it is extremely, unbearably dull, and often propelled by silly plot devices like one of his love interests offering all their royalties in return for Masamune becoming their slave. The whole premise of being a light novel author is an accessory that may as well not even exist. If you stripped all the fanservice away, all that would expose is the show's unsightly skeleton.

I can't think of any situation where Eromanga-sensei could come as a recommendation. It is asinine dreck, without so much as a modicum of creativity. I suppose its colourful art and catchy opening animation may lead some people into thinking the anime is more than it truly is, but it is best to be honest: the sole reason anyone likes this show is because they want to bone the twelve-year-old heroine.

Now how much merit is there in a story like that?

I'd wager not a whole not.

Attack on Titan's first season never really sat right with me. A series more interested in cinematics (orchestrals, screaming aplenty) than it did in conveying a message or allowing its audience to care for the characters beyond whatever grisly death they inevitably succumb to. It was loud, its presence ever more so, and so I distanced myself from what seemed standard action movie cuisine.

After over three years of silence, its second season comes as something a bit more surprising. It trims away its grimy, cacophonous exterior and presents something, somewhat, more refined. The killing has found a purpose. The world the characters inhabit possesses some ... semblance of depth. There exists a story with a direction, which is exactly why it will disappoint fans who were expecting it to perpetually wander amidst blood and steel.

To be sure, Eren and crew killing (and conversely being killed) is a formula that proved moderately entertaining in the first season, if only mindlessly so. But a second season? A third? Would it still be exciting, or would people begin to tire of it? I was in the latter camp, and so I find myself glad the goalposts were changed altogether.

That's not to imply that all of AoT's flaws have been erased. The characterisation remains a sore spot for the series, with Eren continuing to scream nonsense at the top of his lungs, incapable of anything but being a hot-blooded child who is somehow the centrepiece of everything in the world. There's nothing to his character except his being angry all the time, which is why I make no intentions of defending his presence.

So who is there to defend instead? Mikasa and Armin, the two other primary characters, while less frustrating and less offensive to listen to, don't possess much that wasn't already immediately apparent. They are flat, as are the side characters, so numerous and disposable that I found myself Googling the name of one of the story's new villains because I couldn't for the life of me remember who they even were. Other characters-- Sasha-- are so devoid of character that the only thing they are defined by is the quantity of food they eat. And while the second season gives you marginally more reason to empathise with them throughout their numerous backstory scenes, it still remains difficult to care much about the fates of any of them - a significant issue in a story centred upon war. It is why I never thought much other than "ew, gross" and "wow, that sucks" when any of the characters (of which there were dozens) were chewed, dismembered, and/or squished by abhorrent-looking humanoids.

This is why I think the best way to appreciate Attack on Titan is to focus less on the pieces, and more on the board itself. Attack on Titan's setting is genuinely fascinating, and uncovering its secrets is likely to be the greatest delight for viewers unsatisfied with mere violence. While walled-off communities on the verge of extinction isn't entirely new to anime (Space Battleship Yamato went there in 1974, and Macross in 1982), the massive scale of the cities behind the walls creates ample room for an animated (yet ever so bleak) world to exist. Discovering how the world's agriculture functions, its geography, the state of politics within the Castle, the cultists' activities, and the design of the soldiers' Vertical Manoeuvring Equipment is some of the most fun I've had with an anime in this year or last. More Attack on Titan isn't exactly a proposition that gives me thrills and tingles, but books and other media focusing on its world is something I would absolutely be interested in. A rich setting it is, and with the scale of the world now extending far beyond the walls, there is almost limitless potential. Potential, I suppose, which will probably never extend into its largely mediocre story.

A mediocre story is still a step up from last season, perhaps. The violence is now more of an accessory to the plot, rather than the inverse, which allows things to follow down a more linear road instead of one winding and circling around ad infinitum. Eren and his allies, as well as his enemies, now have a mission that extends beyond survival. There are antagonists excluding the Titans mindlessly chewing every fleshy thing in sight, which creates a more interesting dynamic, certainly, as the villains are treated as human beings rather than mindless lunatics bent on world destruction, as is seemingly the case in nearly every anime that has ever existed. Some fans may be disappointed that they aren't given a villain to detest, but I've always been of the opinion that a conflict in which no true 'good' and 'bad' side exists is a more compelling tale to tell.

The second season's highlight is no doubt its halfway point, a twist so suddenly and casually revealed that it is natural to doubt one's ears, provided you hadn't already guessed one of their blatantly obvious identities well-beforehand. The ensuing fight scene is neat, as it carries a level of emotional weight so lacking in anything that existed previous. But the extent to which some people have been praising the scene, as though it is the craziest and most "epic" thing that has ever appeared in anime, is certainly without much merit.

(It also deserves to be mentioned how downright silly some scenes can be, such as when Armin and Mikasa 'emotionally' eat their rations upon the wall. Moments like this make it considerably harder to take everything else seriously.)

The production quality of Attack on Titan's second season is a minor downgrade from the first's, a fairly disappointing detail when considering the three-year wait and shorter-than-expected episode count. The aforementioned reveal doesn't hit as hard as it should when one of the villains, who is supposed to be menacing, is suddenly given the cheap CGI treatment. The fight scene fares better, with its eyes moving and monstrous fist pausing in slow-motion, but by that point the damage the first impression has created is irreversible. Mediocre animation for AoT may very well be stellar in contrast to the average seasonal anime, but standards are different here, and the ballpark much larger.

If loud orchestrals are your jam, then things have not changed all too much between 2013 and 2017. The music is still loud and climactic, and the opening, while not quite as memorable as the first two, is a solid addition to the series from both a visual and musical standpoint. But if you're a bit like me, and don't exactly enjoy noise constantly pumping into your eardrums, then Attack on Titan can be a great way to receive a headache. And this is coming from someone who listens to The Money Store on occasion.

It would be a lie to claim I didn't enjoy my time with Attack on Titan. But I am uncertain how much of that is a result of my fascination with the setting, and what, if any of my enjoyment pertains to the actual anime. To claim Attack on Titan is something of great critical merit isn't something I could do without being disingenuous. Decent? Certainly, and a noticeable step above the turgid Hollywood fare its first season was, with the introduction of new antagonists and an actual, tangible story. But for those who waited years for more Titan slaying, I do start to wonder: were they ever really giving the rest of the medium a look?

Kyoto Animation has been something of a lost soul, struggling to find its identity in a post-Haruhi and K-ON world. It is through flipping back the dial and returning to their roots that their newest title, Maid Dragon, is able to find its footing. It feels like something that might have been animated once upon a time in 2005, and that is precisely what makes it so special in the modern climate of harem and superpower.

And unlike many of their more recent titles, it knows what it wishes to be and never compromises its vision in a futile attempt to appease everyone and anyone. It ... doesn't play around with drama, and it never centres on action and explosions despite its cast of malevolent dragons. It's silly. It's relaxing. And it can even be a bit heartwarming when it tries, too. Have I also mentioned that Tohru is cute as all hell?

Some may immediately wince and groan upon reading the series' synopsis. Maids plus dragons does not make for a very promising setting, nor does it seem like a combination that required much more than two or three seconds of thought. Everything that could possibly exist has, or inevitably will, receive some sort of series with cute girls indiscriminately slapped onto it. Modern anime has trained people to be cynical.

But to treat Maid Dragon as just another silly comedy with moe characters wouldn't be entirely fair, as there are a number of things it does quite differently. Kobayashi, the show's title character and languid protagonist, is a working adult rather than the conventional teenager. Whereas most anime of its nature would choose instead to play a teenager as some pseudo-adult ("my parents are conveniently away on a business trip, so, hey, I have this house and this maid lady all to myself"), Maid Dragon chooses instead to portray real adults with real issues. Kobayashi is so bored with the office-lady routine that she will choose to drink herself halfway to death after a long day's work. Such is life in much of Japan.

By portraying adult characters, the sense of family between Kobayashi, Tohru, and Kamui feels genuine. Kobayashi is the mother of the household, and she will snap back at her dragon friends whenever they do something unreasonable. She is strict, yet also caring, and tries her best to understand their difficulties with getting used to the human world. Even little things such as peeling oranges for the two on their kotatsu makes it clear that she appreciates their company, even if she may not always be clear and forthright about it. Maid Dragon is true slice-of-life.

Kobayashi being female also helps to keep the show away from any unnecessary sexual undertones. If she were male, the show would no doubt be a harem, and it would be all the worse for it. It is hard to care about a cast when the only thing characterising them is accidental breast fondling (yay) and walking in on (and screaming at) each other in the bathroom. Yawn. While Tohru's feelings for Kobayashi are humorously exaggerated as being romantic, that is not Tohru's actual intentions, and indeed, her reactions come more from gratitude and a desire to protect her guardian, rather than anything genuinely romantic or sexual. The one exception is that, yes, there is a compulsory beach scene, although I suppose I can't fault it too much as it was relatively short and harmless (and because Tohru's body is a lovely sight indeed).

Maid Dragon can occasionally be funny-- Tohru visiting Kobayashi's workplace and repeatedly tripping her crabby boss, or challenging one of the other dragons to a fight in another dimension only to close it on them-- but it isn't an anime that is particularly defined by laughs. It is meant more to be relaxing, and, undoubtedly thanks to Kamui's presence, cute, at times adorable. I just wish it didn't have to repeat the same joke about Tohru cooking her tail a million and one times over.

The anime is at its strongest when it focuses on these main three, which makes the scenes with the other three dragons and Kobayashi's otaku friend, Takiya, significantly less appealing. Takiya's split personality is so jarring and exaggerated that he is often more obnoxious than anything, and Quetzalcoatl is pretty much a non-character whose only defining traits are that her boobs are large and that she likes to dress in scantily-clad clothing. If they were taken out altogether, I don't think anyone would find much reason to complain. More time should instead have been spent developing Kobayashi's cynical worldview, and Tohru's newfound interest in human society, the show's two most compelling themes. It would be nice for Kamui to also have something else to her besides simply being cute and snugly, but then I suppose it would be difficult to develop a character who is essentially the equivalent of a six or seven-year-old child. I sure as heck did not have anything else defining me at that age besides a love for candy and temper tantrums.

Kyoto Animation's artwork is generally excellent, but it certainly stands out in Maid Dragon's case. While there are few scenes that draw particular attention for their animation, the cute and humorous expressions the characters make (notably Tohru and Kamui) make the anime a ripe for grabbin' screenshots. Tohru's eyes are especially detailed, and draw attention to her nature as a dragon while never seeming overtly inhuman. Bright colours and soft edges also do well to enhance the fluffy, relaxing atmosphere the anime strives for. Part of the problem I had with some of KyoAni's other titles, such as Hibike Euphonium, is that they just looked so bland and dreary all the time. It's always welcome to see them return to a more traditional style, as traditional, it seems, is the very thing that KyoAni is skilled at.

To label Maid Dragon as something stellar or ground-breaking may be giving it a bit too much credit, but there is little doubt that it is at least a return to form for a studio that has been losing its way for many a year. It is as well a fun time in its own right, an almost nostalgic recollection of what slice-of-life anime used to be, and could, can be once more.

There aren't many anime as uncomfortable as Kuzu no Honkai. It introduces itself as a melancholic tale of unrequited love, and quickly transforms into something far more ugly. The characters are relentlessly trampled upon, until, indeed, as the title might suggest, they are reduced to human trash.

It isn't necessary for a story to make you feel happy. There exist a wealth of fiction that, while depressing, and perhaps never even enjoyable, are still valuable for the message they are trying to make.

Kuzu no Honkai doesn't have that message. It is misery for misery's sake, existing almost exclusively to make you feel like crap. ... If you found anime such as Aku no Hana and School Days difficult to watch, you might have yourself something of a challenge here, too.

There is seldom a character within Kuzu no Honkai who behaves sensibly or is capable of thinking with any other organ except their genitalia. Hanabi and Mugi are lonely because they cannot be united with their loved ones, and so they seek to find some solace in each other. They can't love each other because they love someone else. They use sexual intimacy as an escape. But they still can't give up on the one they love. And so the cycle, their tedious lives continue.

If that is where the series stood, all may have been fine. But it escalates, and they, and just about everyone else surrounding them, wants more, more, until nothing remains in their hollow lives but sex and sleaze. It becomes impossible to feel any empathy for them and the grief they are constantly plunging themselves into. They're beyond saving. They deserve everything that happens to them. And so I cannot bring myself to care when it tries to play Hanabi as the victim, the tragic heroine. The real victims are Norumi (the male teacher) and Noriko for being deceived by such deplorable people. Love is blind, as the cheesy proverb goes, but in this case they must also be blind in the literal sense.

Most of Kuzu no Honkai's cast is comprised of hypocrites who get upset with their partner(s) for acts they have been committing themselves. They act nonsensically at times, and can change their attitude on a whim, giving up on their love at the end of one episode and then cheerfully encouraging each other to confess at the beginning of the next. They haven't the slightest idea of what they want. Maybe that is to be expected. Love is a tricky thing, after all, and teenagers are at their most confused stage in life. But it becomes a question if what they felt was ever love in the first place when they can so readily find someone else as a replacement, sleeping with anyone who shows them even the slightest affection. It's entirely possible that Hanabi and Mugi only fell in love with their respective partner because they were the first ones to give them that affection. And so how am I to feel bad for the two when their crushes end in disappointment?

While women like Akane undoubtedly exist in the real world (having unfortunately encountered someone similar myself), she is possessed by such an intensely twisted and ugly worldview that it becomes a wonder how she is even able to fulfil her duties as a teacher. She eventually comes to a point of redemption, but makes it quite clear that she is there only to see, to try, potentially ruining a man's entire life merely for the chance of relieving her boredom. I didn't find that heartwarming as it was intended to be - I found it disgusting of her, and that's in the face of all the detestable things she had already done.

The main theme of each episode is who is going to make out with or bang whom. It's an endless rotation, much like a hentai, the characters seemingly unaware of or passive to the concept of cheating, and incapable of guilt. Everyone loves someone else, and seemingly nobody in the world is capable of a happy, fulfilling relationship-- even Hanabi's friends (who are never otherwise shown) are revealed as having their partner cheating on them. Maybe it's a good thing I detest all the characters, as I don't think I would want a character I actually like to be in a story like this. Any time Noriko appeared, the one I disliked the least, I was dreading to see the mess she might be dragged into. And Narumi, while naive to painful extents, is never really deserving of the awful situation Akane puts him through. The only joy you could possibly extract from something like this is some sadomasochistic desire to see everyone in pain and despair. I can't say I possess that desire.

The main rebuttal, I would imagine, is that the characters are meant to be human trash, and so it is okay that they are trash. I could concede to that point, as stories do not require respectable characters. But even trash are human, and so it is expected that they still behave like humans, a detail that Kuzu no Honkai seems so ready to forget.

Sanae, for instance, has such an intense (and frankly creepy) attachment to her loved one that it almost seems a crime for her to not be locked away in some mental hospital. There can at times be a desire to stay with someone you love even when you know you cannot have them or that they are bad for you, but she long crosses the boundary of how real people would react in her situation. There is a difference between being a confused teenager who seeks sexual gratification, and being a psychotic almost-rapist who believes people are their property. If they have done as she does, then they've probably gotten to know prison life pretty well.

It's also questionable why the author decided to complicate things further by giving Sanae someone who one-sidedly loves her as well, considering how little is ever done with them. You could write them out completely and it wouldn't affect much of anything. They exist solely, I would assume, to create more despair, as if the show hadn't enough of that already.

Kuzu no Honkai's detestable cast is, if nothing else, well-realised, thanks to the frequent monologuing and backstories. Each of the main six get their turn to narrate on numerous occasions, which does well to explain their motivations and feelings and to make them feel like proper protagonists rather than mere accessories to the carnage, even if some (namely Sanae) receive significantly less characterisation than others. To merely show two characters having sex or making out with each other is not nearly as meaningful as when it is accompanied by narration. It leaves less to the imagination, but, unlike other intensely uncomfortable and cringe-filled anime such as School Days, gives substance to the scene and makes sense in the context of the characters. When timed with the anime's emotional soundtrack, some of the dialogue can almost feel captivating, and a kiss can carry power, even if it is between two people who really have no business kissing each other in the first place. It's nice to have an anime courageous enough to portray sex in an honest manner, as most use it purely for pornographic purposes, or seem afraid of touching upon it altogether, as if humans are somehow sexless creatures. I just don't think that real people are nearly as defined by it as they are in Kuzu no Honkai.

I'll fully admit that I hated every second I spent watching Kuzu no Honkai, and felt relieved when it was over. This isn't because it is a particularly bad anime, but because it aims to say or do little else but make the viewer feel terrible. It pushes you, kicks you, and then throws another punch to your gut once that is over. It is filled with moments where you want to shout at the characters to stop, to not be stupid. There are times where you will have to pause and take a breather because of all the cringe and madness that is unfolding. Kuzu no Honkai is about as far from a pleasant anime as can possibly be, and it never really aims to fill that gap with much substance or meaning. Its starting and ending points are the same. It wants to say that people are stupid, that love hurts, and more than that, it wants you to hurt, too.

Some people will be fine with that. Maybe they want to feel awful. Maybe they just want to feel emotion, any emotion.

I'll give them that - it certainly makes you feel something.