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Super Cub’s embrace of a spirit of adventure bringing light to a dull life isn’t unique, but it brings across that spirit in a way that’s uniquely relatable to the average person. While most narratives of this sort focus on some form of splendor or natural beauty punctuating the journey, Super Cub fully ignores the destination in favor of the journey. Centered around a boring, bland small town punctuated with browns and grays, every adventure Koguma takes is a deeply mundane struggle expanded into a twenty minute episode of television to illustrate the way in which her newfound hobby has brought a little more meaning ... into her life.

CGI in anime is forever a controversial topic, but in my opinion nobody does it better than Super Cub. while it still carries a general stiffness and brittle feel, if anything it seems to compliment tone. The thick, rough lines frame an overwhelmingly boring color palette used perfectly to contrast the moments of light and color. Koguma’s shitty, bland hometown and all of its scraggy grass and concrete slowly becomes a comfortable place with countless new nooks and crannies to explore as she begins to embrace the joy of a journey regardless of destination. All of the time spent around these familiar sights makes the final journey through varied new destinations feel earned- and even then nothing about it feels magical or overblown, it’s three friends living it up on a weekend road trip.

Koguma’s life isn’t fantastical. She’s still struggling with money, living off of disgusting-looking packets of instant curry and caught up in the daily grind of school. But when she’s on her Cub the pallid grays and browns of her surrounding get just that much brighter. In Super Cub, the remedy to a crushingly dull everyday life isn’t an escape from the everyday, but a small passion to make the everyday worth it. It’s a very relatable, real thing portrayed in an easy relaxing watch that helps the weight of the world feel just that much less crushing.

Wonder Egg Priority is a self-defacing, indecisive, insensitive, and genuinely insulting car wreck of a story seemingly only able to commit to the author’s insistence that young women definitely always kill themselves because they want to fuck older men. While often stated to be an example of a “strong start, weak ending,” this always feels highly disingenuous. While the opening act is carried by the mesmerizing forward momentum of the flash-and-fire a talented director and hardworking animation team brought to it, their devotion could only carry a horrific script so far. Beneath the facade of a sophisticated art anime lies a blatant continuation of Nojima’s ... trauma-porn fueled daytime tv drama roots. The portrayal of young women’s suffering is at best blunt, on average voyeuristic, and at its worst actively abhorrent. The finale’s reveal of the story of Koito’s death is a thematic poison pill that retroactively rots away every inch of the story as Nojima’s true lack of empathy for the subject matter of his traumatically indulgent shitshow is revealed in full. Even ignoring thematic elements, the final act utterly fails to weave together anything resembling a compelling narrative, throwing new plot points at the wall like a drunken game of darts before it jumps out the window and baits a second season so it doesn't have to pay its tab.

I originally planned to make this a much longer review, but it rapidly became clear to me that Wonder Egg didn’t deserve this level of thought - not when the sum total of it’s cultural legacy has already been reduced to “top ten darkest moments in anime” listicle fodder, and not when Nojima clearly didn’t put anything resembling that level of thought into his own work.

Tl;dr: Above all else, this movie is an explosive cavalcade of sensation. Every moment resounds with sound, light, color, and raw earnest emotion. Past the halfway mark this is a movie that refuses to let you breathe as it juices what feels like it could be a 12-episode anime's worth of pathos and spectacle from sixty minutes. What could become a chaotic cramped mess instead becomes an enthralling ride from beginning to end.

"masterpiece" and "perfect" are not words i throw around lightly. I tend to be a little harsh on the things I love as if to defend my own interest in them, an ... unfortunate lasting symptom as my tenure as a fan of a show that shall not be named. So understand when I say this, I say this with my whole chest: Revue Starlight Gekaijouban is a nigh-flawless masterpiece.

Much like the show, I would define this movie's approach to subtext and metaphor in a very particular way - Revue Starlight abounds with subtleties, but is by no means subtle. The symbolism is larger then life and placed directly in your face, as if to mimic the way in which symbolism in the theatrical world must be portrayed at a scale large enough to be seen by the unmagnified view of a live audience. However, past the emotional sledgehammers of tokyo tower, jet-engine trains and exploding tomatoes, you find layers on layers of intricate meaning woven tight enough to incite a phd dissertation. Nana's revue and general role in the film in particular has proved my own personal little riddle i've invested far too much of my thought and willpower into.

It's difficult to discuss the character beats without delving into spoiler territory but needless to say this movie provides a perfect sense of open-ended resolution to each and every character that the show could not provide. Each of these girls has a whole life ahead of them and a thousand more stories to tell, but this story is over, and they've said their peace perfectly before moving forward into a scary and wonderful new future. Without specifics my personal favorites are Mahiru finally getting her day in the sun, and Nana. Ohhhhh Nana.

And, Of Course, I would be remiss to not devote a paragraph of this review to the music. As an aspiring composer myself, I can only hope to someday create something with a quarter of the explosive power and emotional impact of Super Star Spectacle. The revue songs are eclectic and fun, dipping toes into whatever genres they feel like suits the moment at hand and succeeding every time. Learning that Wi(l)d-Screen Baroque was composed by somebody who got their start on the Sound Voltex team made everything make sense, and i'm now eager to play that song in a 4key game. Even outside of the revues, Tatsuya Kato's score draws unbelievable emotion out of his reserved keys and soundscapes. Any track from this soundtrack in isolation is enough to put me on the verge of tears.

While the pacing of the second half of the movie is the one compliant brought up by even fervent fans, I personally argues that it works solely in it's favor. My biggest problem is the way it can slam the brakes and drag on during the Karen flashbacks - otherwise, the restless pace is essential to it's stunning maximalist aproach. Even the shoddy cgi, the primary visual issue oft cited, is another sign to me of the incredible extravagant passion put behind every inch of it's production.

I could sing revue starlight's praises for days on end, but i've written so many words that MyAnimeList is beginning to fall apart on me. All and all, a unique, beautiful, incomporable masterpiece that will surely remain one of my favorites for years to come.