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Goblin Slayer is a tasteless depiction of extreme violence purely for shock value.

I would not mind the usage of brunt sexual violence were it not so brutishly shoved in my face. These tragic events, fictional as they may be, end up holding zero emotional weight within the story. They purely evoke hatred for an enemy that we do not even care about. What values do these goblin hordes hold? What message are we able to come away with after these encounters? To be upset at these mindless goblins holds the same moral significance as being outraged at malaria-ridden mosquitos.

Despite so much effort placed ... into standing out from the swathe of high fantasy/ isekai series, we are left with a nonchalant atmosphere typical of any hero pandering show, completely undermining any meaning behind these perverse displays of violence and sexual violation.

Our sidekicks are in awe as our Goblin Slayer hero brutalises foe after foe. Our female characters are left swooning for a faceless figure who is defined purely by a tragic backstory, curt one-liner dialogue and his indiscriminate slaughter of goblins.
Yes, he is a badass. Yes, he is masculine, stoic and intrepid. The Goblin Slayer was someone I was rooting for, and the person he had become was very understandable considering his past. But that is all I can really say about him. His journey is neither compelling nor meaningful, and if this character is supposed to be a driving force for the series, there is not much to look forward to.

As much as I understand and agree with the appeal of a morally ambiguous protagonist in dark fantasy, I really could not hold any interest in the Goblin Slayer’s plight. Vague ethical dilemmas are introduced early on in regards to killing infant goblins who have yet to commit any wrongdoings, or the depraved killing methods our Slayer comes up with that mirror or even surpass anything these goblins do. However, these issues revolve around a fictional race that is shown to hardly even be sentient, let alone have a grasp of morality and whether or not what they are doing is “evil”. They act on impulse. They fight for nothing. Consequently, neither does the Goblin Slayer. Watching him kill these creatures is as cathartic as killing a common mob creature in a video game.

It needs to be established that the depiction of rape or extreme violence in a work of fiction is not something to be inherently outraged over. Plenty of shows integrate them within their premise, with Berserk coming to mind in the case of anime/manga. It CAN be used to emphasise key elements of a fictional work, such as the unforgiving society depicted, or the moral bankrupty of a particular figure. But underneath the blood-stained veneer of dark fantasy, Goblin Slayer can only be described as just another trite, senseless fantasy show. There is no meaning to its bloodshed.

The only path afforded to Goblin Slayer is to be entertaining, and it sure is underwhelming. This is bolstered by its lazy CGI/ hand-drawn combinations as well as a collection of uninspiring action sequences, save for a few interesting shots such as the sequence of flying arrows striking the goblins’ heads in episode 4. I will not say much about the sound/music, as it does its job. The heavy metal theme that accompanies the Goblin Slayer’s slaughter scenes were quite entertaining and fitting, however.

Keep in mind this review is uninfluenced by any community reaction that seems to have occurred while it aired, nor is it my intention to virtue signal through a fictional work. It was a show I just decided to check out, and found to be very, very tasteless. There are plenty of isekai/fantasy series that are unabashed in being harmless, turn-your-brain-off shows that did not have to include such sordid imagery. Whether they were meaningful or not, I found them to be entertaining without any sleazy aftertaste.

With all things considered: If you are considering watching this show or are intrigued by its premise, save yourself the effort. Have some self-respect and watch any of the other fantasy shows that are common in every season that are equally entertaining. If you would like a recommendation, the Slime isekai is one to check out. It is fun, enjoyable and actually depicts fictional races such as goblins as being on a moral spectrum and capable of sentient thought.

Artistic passion serves as one of the greatest motivators for an individual to try their best. Sometimes we want these dreams to come to fruition, badly. We want it more than anyone else could ever want it. So badly that we sacrifice social gatherings, sleep, and hobbies. We toil when no one else is watching. Sometimes we try harder than we ever thought we were capable of, harder than anyone else in the world. Even so, it might not be enough. When this happens, one must ask themselves: Was I not good enough? Why was it that something I put all I was capable of ... reaped nothing but failure?

In a manner that is quite rare for the medium, Sakura-sou no Pet na Kanojo tackles the ugly truth for those aspiring to actualise dreams: Our best might not always be enough. The work that an ordinary individual may put their very soul into can be eclipsed by the whims of those who are truly talented.

This journey is experienced through the charming residents of Sakura-sou that feature a cacophony of artistically-minded misfits, all with their share of idiosyncrasies and aspirations. Over the course of a schooling year, our residents come to grips with this truth as they strive to bring their passions to life. And it is through these attempts and efforts that a glaring spotlight of comparison is placed between individuals with varying degrees of talent.

NOTE: Section contains slight SPOILERS

This is made evident through diametrically opposing portrayals of those who are gifted and those who are not.
We have Nanami Aoyama, an aspiring voice actress whose determination is palpable: She is driven enough to work without the financial support of her parents, to the point of sickness. Nanami is someone who is well-aware of her deficiencies in talent, and makes up for it with an unrelenting work ethic. With this acknowledgement comes insecurity and a fear of failure. This is evident in episode 21, titled “It’s Not Anyone’s Fault That It Rains”, and what I believe is the most powerful episode. Here, Nanami confesses that her efforts to help others in Sakura-sou were excuses to help her avoid and alleviate the realities of her failed audition: Something she had staked 2 years of training and the savings of multiple part-time jobs on. Even so, it is clear that she tried as hard as she could. Despite these coping mechanisms, her grief is vividly painful and visceral.

This is paralleled in Sorata Kanda, whose efforts to realise his newfound passion in game design ultimately leave him staring failure in the eyes. The talented Shiina unknowingly rubs salt in this wound when her casual illustrations to assist his pitch are met with enthusiastic recruitment and praise. Faced with the results of a glaring difference in talent, Sorata wrestles with feelings of disillusionment that leave him resentful, and at times even hateful of Shiina.

Finally, the artistic genius Shiina Mashiro, who is the catalyst of the show, serves as an example of someone who was born far more gifted than others. Despite her naive and heavily dependent disposition as well as her social struggles, we are shown that any of her artistic pursuits result in masterful works of technical skill that evoke vivid, vibrant emotions and reflect her artistic sensibility. Those that she considers dear friends are at times caught up in the gravity of her talent, seen in Rita and Sorata, which make their own inabilities all the more clear. As she grows emotionally, Shiina comes to the realisation that simply the act of her pursuing her artistic goals can end up greatly hurting her friends.

With this in mind, author Hajime Kamoshida poses the question: Is there anyone or anything to blame? Is it the fault of the talented that their works are met with roaring praise and reward? Or should we put to question the testing and screening systems that can invalidate years of hard work through a few minutes of audition. There is no definitive answer. Kamoshida suggests that there really isn’t anyone or anything to blame. The resentment that Sorata and Rita experience, however painful they may be, is unwarranted but true. Shiina is depicted as incredibly earnest in her desire for her friends to succeed, and the envy she evokes is not a product of any arrogance or disdain she displays. Rather, the successful, moving manga she chooses to create are brought to life by the same artistic passion that all our characters are fuelled by. Shiina, too, is seen working herself to the point of exhaustion and collapse. The fact that the gifted succeed is not immoral in and of itself.

The world we are in is meritocratic, albeit incredibly unfair at times. We may be unlucky on the day we put it all on the line. We might also just have not been impressive enough, in a screening process full of people who might be equally as hardworking and wanting. In experiencing the grief of failure, our characters come to accept this reality. They realise that things can be unfair, and that we have no one to blame for it. And that’s okay. Our dreams won’t always come true. As we accept this, we can decide whether we can let it go, or to try again with the same fervour that inspired us in the first place.The way Sakura-sou’s cast process these feelings of grief is cathartic, and serve as compelling character depictions in this coming-of-age story.

Nevertheless, the show isn’t really a repudiation of blindly reaching for our dreams either. Sakura-sou is really brought to life through the relationships of its cast. There is a strong sense of kinship and togetherness throughout the series. The residents grow even closer over time as they experience the growing pains of adolescence, goals and romance. We are left with a sense of optimism in the way that the residents of Sakura-sou struggle together. They inspire each other, push each other to work harder and to never give up. The art we see them produce isn’t ever really just a product of themselves as individuals, but also the dear friends that influence them and the quirks of the dorm they live in together. The closeness of all the characters is especially heartwarming, and provides an easily digestible and enjoyable setting that is typical of a romantic comedy.

I do have to say that the cast and their interactions are rife with melodrama, with reactions of certain characters at times very hot headed or in other times very irrational to serve the progression of the story. The romance is similarly marred by a need for melodrama that leaves it seeming very unrealistic at times. Not to mention episodes being plagued with fan-service that while entertaining, can undermine the gravity of events and certain relationships. Despite all that, I found the characters to all be incredibly endearing. The romance can be very sappy and cheesy, but I felt that these innocent romantic interactions were really sweet and fitting of a coming-of-age high school setting.


Personally, I found it especially refreshing that Sakura-sou no Pet na Kanojo chose to wrestle with this question of idealism and reality, especially considering that the anime industry is especially rife with premises of self-inserting happy tales and power fantasies. The truth is visceral and unsensitive. The show’s discussion of these themes are poignant, and its strongest quality. Nevertheless, it can be let down by its melodrama and fanservice that is excessive at times, as well as character interactions that can be frustrating to watch. The art maintains a decent quality, although not especially outstanding. I will give credit to scenes that show the Shiina’s artwork, as they really convey its emotional weight and beauty. The music is fitting and memorable, but again, not especially outstanding. The OPs and EDs were quite pleasant and catchy.

Finally, would I recommend this show? Definitely. It’s not perfect, but it is a charming coming-of-age story that at times questions the audience, albeit quite bluntly at times. For those looking for a rom-com that doesn’t simply pander to its audience, this is one to watch. To those who have read up to this point, I hope that the rating I have given does not weigh too heavily on whether to watch it or not. It was an enjoyable series, and featured one of my favourite characters in anime in Nanami Aoyama.

Behind this story of boundless childhood imagination, Miyazaki depicts a child's ability to process loss and change with great sensitivity. We become acquainted with a cast of friendly creatures that take our protagonists on an adventure brimming with whimsy.

This intimate depiction of two daughters in a tentative period of their lives is brought to life through the lense of realism and fantasy: A quaint portrayal of two children exploring the rustic landscape they learn to call home. Satsuki and Mei discover the world around them with an astonishing degree of realism: Tantrums, curiosity, unbridled excitement and other unpredictable behaviour make them both relatable and ... endearing. In tandem with exploring the tangible world, we are invited on a visual and musical spectacle by Totoro and friends on a fantastical journey that encapsulates childhood: A vivid imagination guided by unfiltered curiosity of the world around us.

Childhood. Quite a short period of our lives given the typical human lifespan, yet it is a period of our most formative years. It is when we are at our most sensitive, when we are the most receptive to external influences of family, society and our environment to eventually become the person that we are today. Ironically, the mind of a child is one that is unshackled by societal restraints, learned prejudices or even the limitations of the physical world. A child pursues the world around it with the same earnest desire to learn, explore and understand. It is a fleeting mentality that becomes moulded by the experiences of growing up. Our childhood is so special and compelling, and yet we tend to remember so little of it with time.

In Tonari no Totoro, Miyazaki wrestles with a topic that has perpetuated many works of fiction. In doing so, he has enraptured the hearts of millions of children, celebrating the ability to dream. And for the ones who have "outgrown" childhood, he brings a touching tale that allows us to relive the ephemeral memories of being a kid again over the course of 86 minutes.

This is a film that has resonated with me deeply on a personal level, especially the premise of a very ill mother. I have incredibly vivid, detailed memories of that time period that I sometimes wish I didn't have. I am truly grateful to this film for helping me come to terms with these feelings of half-processed grief, and an incomplete understanding of that period I had as a child that have always stuck with me.