Yurine Hanazono is a college student who summons Jashin-chan, a demon from the underworld. Now they must live together in a run-down apartment in Tokyo’s Jinbōchō district. If Yurine dies, Jashin-chan gets to go back to the underworld, so she constantly plots to kill Yurine. – ANN
Episode 1 Summary: Jashin-chan is an evil demon who was unwillingly summoned to Earth by Yurine, a human being with even more terrifying qualities. Jashin-chan wants nothing more than to make her way back home to Hell, a journey which can only occur if she’s released by her master. This means one thing – if she can kill Yurine, she’ll be free to go. Jashin-chan comes up with scheme after hare-brained scheme to take Yurine out of the picture – one time she plots to distract Yurine with a favorite movie and bean her with a crowbar, and a few days later she’s got plans to stun her with a stun gun and then stab her to death. All of Jashin-chan’s plots involve the forced participation of her other demon friends, most of whom are actually pretty nice people and don’t necessarily want to enable her (but who are thus easily-manipulated). Yurine is also constantly one step ahead of Jashin-chan’s plans, and her counterattacks are profoundly brutal.
In London is “Café Forbidden,” a mysterious café that only opens at night. Bayrou is a girl who is in London to study abroad. She meets the handsome men who work this place where the guardians of the boundary between the human and shadow world gather. – ANN
Episode 1 Summary: Ton Baileu and her friend Shinyao are excited to be moving to London. They’re there to study abroad, something neither of them would likely have attempted if not for the support of the other. After arriving at the airport, it’s just a train ride into the city and they can move into their new apartment. Ton is extra excited because her great-grandmother once made London her home and she feels a special connection to the misunderstood matriarch. Unfortunately the ladies aren’t in the city very long before their luggage is nabbed by a thief that’s only visible to Ton. Calling upon a magic spell gleaned from her great-grandmother’s writings, she’s lead to a mysterious cafe staffed by Vlad, Toryu, and Luke, all of them young(?), attractive men. They react to Ton as if they already know her; as it turns out that they were all familiar with her great-grandmother through some unexplained means. They’re also involved in the supernatural and occult, and determine that it was a goblin who stole Ton’s baggage. They make their way to Hyde Park where they suspect that the goblin’s stash is hidden among the trees, but they’re in for a surprise when Spriggan, lord of the forest, attacks. Not only do all the attractive young men appear to have special abilities (including lycanthropy, in one case), but Ton herself reaches within herself and demonstrates her mettle. As day breaks, Ton awakens on a bench in the park surrounded by her luggage. Could the experience, and the young men, have been just a strange dream?
In the dream world, dreams give people the power to live, but the world is threatened by dream-eating beings known as “Yumekui.” In order to save the world, princes from all kingdoms must join their power. The butler Navi and Prince Avi of the knight kingdom Arstoria travel the world in order to save it. – ANN
Episode 1 Summary: The Dream Royalty bestowed the ability to dream upon the people in order to brighten their lives, but the Dream Eaters soon came to steal it away. If a Dream Eater were to consume all of someone’s dreams, then that person would be cursed with eternal slumber. In order to fight the advance of these terrifying enemies, a group of princes banded together to defend their kingdoms. One by one, the princes were sealed inside of beautiful rings, only to be awakened by the right person. When the right person appears, however, she doesn’t believe a word of it. Having lived her entire life in our world, she’s not inclined to believe the words of a “butler” (who looks like a stuffed animal) telling her that she’s the Princess of Traümere, a member of the Dream Royalty who has the ability to unseal these princes. But soon enough she does just that, awakening Prince Avi to accompany her. In a nearby town they identify a flamboyant young man peddling ill-gotten wares, including another such royal ring. After a battle with some Dream Eaters, though, it appears that Kiel, as he’s known, might have some royal history as well.
In the MMORPG Cross Reverie, Takuma Sakamoto is so powerful that he is lauded as the “Demon Lord” by other players. One day, he is summoned to a world outside his own, but with the same appearance he had in the game. There, he meets two girls who both proclaim themselves to be his Summoner. They perform an Enslavement Ritual to turn him into their Summon, but that’s when Takuma’s passive ability Magic Reflection activates. Instead, it is the girls who become enslaved. Though Takuma may be the strongest Sorcerer there is, he has no idea how to talk with other people. It is here he makes his choice: to act based on his persona from the game. – ANN
Episode 1 Summary: If the MMORPG “Cross Reverie” has an unofficial boss character, it would have to be Takuma. He plays the game at such a high level that he’s known as the “Demon Lord.” As an antisocial shut-in, Takuma doesn’t have the time or the patience for cute young couples who come to challenge him, and he gleefully blows them up. As he’s relishing his latest win, he suddenly finds himself drawn out of his body and awakens in the presence of an elf, Shera, and a girl with cat ears, Rem, both of whom are arguing over which of them were responsible for summoning him and, thus, who will control him. The joke’s on them, however; Takuma’s special in-game item reflects magic, and the girls have actually enslaved themselves to him. This is inconvenient for all, but they have no idea how to reverse the spell and thus are stuck with the arrangement. The three travel to town and have a sit-down with the head mage; it’s in her best interest to break the enslavement spell to have a better chance at protecting Rem. As it turns out, Rem is hiding a powerful secret which could deal a huge blow to all of humanity. Takuma, as his character “Demon Lord Diablo,” vows not to leave Rem’s side and to help her release herself from her predicament.
There was once a legendary party named Subaru in the globally popular MMORPG Union. The group was made of elementary school friends. They earned fame in the blink of an eye for their unparalleled abilities in the Sense system at the core of the game. However, there was an incident where a player passed away inside the game. As a result of the death, Union ended service. Six years pass. Haruto Amō, who was a key member of Subaru, has become a hopeless high school student. His personality has changed, and he has no friends or ambition. A classmate gets him to log in to the new Re’Union game, and he ends up having a “reunion” that is hard to believe. He meets his former in-game partner and real-world childhood friend Asahi Kuga. The girl who was supposed to have died six years ago was there. – ANN
Episode 1 Summary: “Union” is one of the world’s most popular MMORPGs, and the Subaru guild is known as one of the best groups of players within its world. Each member has their own special skill set that meshes well with the other team members strengths. They all also happen to know each-other in the real world and share a tight bond of friendship with each other. The group catches wind of a new, intense challenge in the game, one which has destroyed several other players. The consequences of losing to the final boss include perma-death – a permanent “game-over” for their characters. Though the stakes are high Haruto, a brash fighter and the de-facto guild leader, urges everyone to take on the challenge and they’re all excited to attempt the quest. Their attempt seems like it might be successful because they all reach the final boss room with ease. Very soon, though, the group is overwhelmed by the power of their opponent; even Asahi, a group member with foresight, is unable to anticipate the laser beam that fells her. Her game-over is bad enough, but there are also real-life consequences to her in-game death; soon after the rest of the group logs out, they find out that Asahi has died of heart failure in her home. Haruto receives much of the blame, as it was his idea to attempt the quest in the first place.
Several years later, Haruto catches wind of the fact that Union has been rebooted as “Re’Union” and the new game is highly exclusive. There are incredible rewards for those who reach the upper echelons of game play, and not everyone is even allowed to log in. Though in the ensuing six years Haruto has become a pained and sullen teenager, he’s talked into playing again by some acquaintances who want to use him to gain access to a special area. It’s all child’s play to Haruto, and he doesn’t expect much to come of it when they reach the treasure at the end, but inside the chest is something highly unexpected – Asahi’s player avatar, awaking from a very long slumber.
Urashima is an island far from the mainland. The people who live there lead carefree lives. But five years ago, the island’s three great families suffered a series of misfortunes, and succumbed to suspicion. The people of the island cut off all contact with the mainland, and began a slow decline. One day, a young man named Setsuna washes ashore claiming to be a time-traveler and suffering from amnesia. He meets three local girls: Sara, Rinne, and Karen. Their meeting will change the course of the island’s fate. – ANN
Episode 1 Summary: One day, a young man washes up on the shore of an island without clothing or a handle on his own memories. He can’t remember who he is or why he’s there, except for the fact that he’s a time traveler who’s traveled to the past for some reason. Urashima island doesn’t take well to interlopers, so the mayor makes a quick show of putting the man on a ship to send him somewhere else. He manages to escape, discovers the mayor’s daughter in her hiding place, and has some broken flashbacks of having met her in some other time or place. Left again to his own devices, he spends a night out on the beach and encounters a girl whose name, Rinne, comes to him without trouble. He then remembers that his name is Setsuna. Both he and Rinne are time travelers (she arrived five years prior), and Rinne invites Setsuna to live with her. Setsuna believes that he’s traveled to Urashima for some purpose, and there are others there who appear to know who he is and want him out of the picture. Is this mystery one that can be solved before Setsuna becomes a victim?
Impressions: Back when I started writing reviews in the mid-to-late 2000’s it felt as though there were a lot of harem romance stories being adapted into anime form. While there were some that I remember just based on how up front they were with their sexism and lewd over-the-top fanservice, there were quite a few more that were mostly-harmless and homogeneous to the untrained eye. The genre hasn’t disappeared, not by a long shot, but it does feel like harem series nowadays almost require some additional defining factor. The monster girl trend has been pretty big recently, as has the male self-insert isekai fantasy harem series. It’s rarer to see something that simply feels like the “typical” anime adaptation of a harem visual novel that I remember being very common in those earlier days.
Setsuna is not shy about his time-travel.
Enter Island, which establishes itself pretty quickly as a back-to-basics harem style series with a sprinkling of sci-fi (or supernatural?) elements to give it a little bit of flavor. The first episode hits all the beats that one would expect, including the introduction of three potential love interests with whom our protagonist might end up . It’s been a while since I’ve seen Amnesia(TM) relied-upon as so blatant a storytelling device, but I have to say that, coupled with Setsuna’s goofy and uncommonly outgoing personality, it made me chuckle a little bit. It feels almost as if the series and its creators are daring us to so much as make a peep complaining about these tropes; considering that the visual novel was released only a few years ago, it seems that its look, feel, and structure were likely very purposeful decisions on the parts of the creative staff.
All of this feels a little quaint and because of that I actually have some generally-positive feelings towards the surface aspects of this episode, but there are a couple of very brief moments that I found somewhat questionable in terms of both taste and implication. In one of the episode’s first scenes, Karen (the mayor’s daughter and one of the assumed love interests), trips on the sandy beach and falls face-first onto Setsuna’s naked groin. It’s played up for comedy, but it’s one of those things that only seems like bawdy slapstick until you really start thinking about the details. I find the thought of getting an accidental face-full of a stranger’s penis to be pretty upsetting, to be honest. As it is with a lot of these types of anime, the humor often seems to be predicated on the characters’ embarrassment, specifically sex-related mortification. Unfortunately, though it’s meant to lighten the mood, it honestly just makes me squirm in my seat. There’s also the hint of a scene that seems to be a flashback (or flash-forward? Time travel is hard!) where a nude Rinne (who’s looking to be especially pre-pubescent) appears to be in a sexual situation with Setsuna. It’s there and gone in a matter of seconds, so it didn’t register with me right away, but the coupling of the young character design with the nudity and atmosphere felt creepy and gross. And of course there are the “small boob” jokes involving the shrine maiden character and the non-consensual near-kiss with Karen. These moments are brief and might be easy to overlook for some, but they’re good reminders of some of the fundamental problems many similar series tend to have in that the women are there for entertainment and primarily at the expense of their dignity.
A fated meeting on the beach.
There was one thing that I absolutely loved about this episode, though: the school uniforms. Goofy school uniform designs tend to be a pet peeve of mine, usually because they’re created for looks rather than practicality or functionality. No one would actually wear something like that unless they were actively cosplaying. The school uniforms in Island, however, are some of the most practical that I’ve ever seen, and that’s because instead of teeny short skirts that seem too short to be worth anything, the bottoms of the uniforms are shorts. This is awesome! It fits the warm island aesthetic very well and avoids the temptation to have constant up-skirt shots peppered throughout the episode. This is one anime trend I that I hope catches on.
This episode is surprisingly watchable, and I’m admittedly just a teensy bit interested in learning about what Setsuna’s deal is, despite the fact that he’s still a little bit of a “nothing” character. I get a weird sense of nostalgia from this opening chapter which is overriding my normal taste-related instincts to drop it and walk away. Perhaps this is just the consequence of being an anime fan for so long; even tropes that you don’t like become familiar echoes of a time when watching anime was a little fresher and writing about it was less restrained.
Pros: Someone put some thought into the uniform designs. The mystery surrounding Setsuna’s situation is mildly intriguing. The show feels nostalgic.
Cons: Each of the three young women is put into a questionable and compromising position, whether in “real life” or in flashback form.
Happy Mothers Day, everyone. I’m not normally one to make holiday themed posts because most of the time by the time I remember there’s a holiday it’s the day of and there’s not much time to put anything together. For some reason, though, I’ve had this on my mind for a while and wanted to put it into writing, even if it’s a little late. I thought it might be fun to look over my last year or so of anime viewing and pick out one of my favorite mother (or mothering-type) characters.
I know a lot of blogs and news outlets like to do top-ten lists in these cases, but the fact is that anime mothers who actually have significant story-important roles in anime aren’t that common so most of those lists tend to be very similar. My arbitrary criteria for my post was to pick out a mother who was active, important, and/or memorable in some way within a series I watched that was broadcast somewhere within the past year (loosely – since this is the first one I’m reaching back a little bit further). I’m sure there are other candidates out there from series that I’m not so familiar with, so if you have someone in mind feel free to let me know in the comments.
Anime, like many other storytelling media, tends to have a “mother” problem. Meaning that so much anime focuses on the activities and adventures of children and teenagers that a parent’s presence could be seen as stifling to their ability to get into “interesting” trouble. What decent, responsible parent would willingly allow their child go places and do things that have the potential to put them in mortal danger? Sure, there are examples in anime of parents who laugh in the face of such concerns and are more than willing to allow their children out into the world (basically every incarnation of Pokémon ever), or accept that their children are in a situation where they’ll be growing up quickly and taking on adult responsibilities (Bodacious Space Pirates, absolutely), but those are less common. Coming from a more realistic perspective and looking more at anime series that are at least somewhat based around realistic social norms, if you want to have some fun it’s just easier to leave parents out of the equation (or create some plot-related circumstance where they’re conveniently unavailable). Since mothers are generally thought to be the more “present” parent in Japanese households, what with social norms and gender expectations being what they are even today, when the story requires a lack of parental oversight it’s usually mom who suffers some ill fate (and maybe dad who becomes a buffoon or is otherwise ineffectual). Anime is full of dead-moms-as-motivation (though in some cases, like Erased, Satoru’s murdered mother is still present in some form due to timeline realities); it’s rarer for mom to be active and involved in Important Story Activities™.
That’s just one reason why The Eccentric Family is so distinctive. Its title immediately betrays the fact that, despite its fantastical, magical setting, the story is focused on family – specifically one particular family of tanuki in Kyoto. While the original season of the show had its debut almost five years ago (which pained me to find out – time flies in anime fandom!), its sequel season appeared last Spring, providing us with a second window into the life of the Shimogamo tanuki clan. While most of the series follows the adventures of the four Shimogamo brothers and primarily the third brother, Yasaburo, their mother, Tousen, is an active participant and the glue the holds the family together, especially after the death of the brothers’ father prior to the show’s start.
The tomboy becomes a bride.
What I love about Tousen is that she’s a multi-faceted, funny, and supportive character with a lot of inner strength. Our early introduction to her in season one paints her as quite the flamboyant person; the tanuki pride themselves on their ability to transform from their furry raccoon-like bodies into almost anything else, including the human forms they often take. Tousen sometimes chooses to become a princely-looking pool-shark out of The Rose of Versailles or Takarazuka play when not in her more standard housewife getup. It’s a great expression of her inherent nature as a trickster, something incredibly important to most respectable tanuki individuals. It also provides a funny contrast to her major weakness; Tousen is scared of lightning and can’t maintain her transformations when she’s startled (a quirk of many tanuki).
I recognize and admire the way in which Tousen displays inner strength, although it takes familiarity with the backstory of the series and some of the relationships to be able to fully appreciate that aspect of her character. Having lost her husband to death-by-hot-pot (which, true to the tone of the show, is both ridiculous and tragic), Tousen does the heavy emotional labor of ensuring the stability of her immediate family, and helping her sons, directly or indirectly, manage the aftermath of the event. She’s obviously still heavily involved in the upbringing of her youngest son, Yashiro, but as the mother of four she still has a hand in all of her sons’ lives even though three of the four have physically left the nest (or the den, I suppose).
Tousen trades scents with her mother.
With all of the supernatural and magical occurrences throughout the series, it can be easy to miss the very down-to-earth family concerns that form the backbone of the character interactions, but each Shimogamo son has his own issues that Tousen has her hand in mediating. Yashiro, the youngest, is sensitive and deals with being bullied by his cousins. Yaichiro, the oldest and most serious, is gunning for the seat of Trick Magister (elected leader of the tanuki clans). Yajiro, the second son, deals with guilt, depression, and PTSD stemming from the night of his father’s death, and thus is stuck in the form of a frog. And Yasaburo is the put-upon third son, stuck in the middle trying to keep various powerful factions balanced and himself from becoming a hot-pot dinner, all while goofing-off to the max. On the surface, all of these are obstacles for the affected characters to overcome on their own, but as with many women in her same position, Tousen has taken it upon herself (voluntarily or not) to help her family address these challenges by offering advice, guidance, and unconditional love. Their challenges are, in turn, her challenges. The cherry on top is that she somehow also manages to maintain some sort of relationship with the Ebisugawa clan (Soun Ebisugawa was responsible for her husband’s death, after all, so it would be less surprising if she wanted nothing to do with them) through Kaisei, Yasaburo’s on-again-off-again possible marriage partner.
I have some ambivalent feelings over the fact that so much of Tousen’s character comes out through reading-between-the-lines, her interactions with other people, and her background presence in the stories of her offspring, though in a way that particular issue feels almost appropriate (possibly more appropriate than was intentional by the creators). Tousen is in the position of that I think so many parents, especially mothers, are forced to occupy. Despite having her own sense of self and inner life, her persona is inextricably connected with the children she’s raised and is sometimes overshadowed in favor of celebrating their more obvious adventures and accomplishments. Motherhood is so often exalted, but less examined in a realistic way or allowed to hold the primary focus in a narrative.
Aside from one example I happened to find while poking around the internet, most discussion of the anime is focused around characters like Benten, the Friday Fellows, Nidaime, Yasaburo, and other characters who viewers would typically consider more “interesting” – people getting into trouble (or causing it), and those who wield literal and figurative power. There’s less glory for or even discussion about characters who only fit into support roles or feel like someone one might actually meet in reality, though the “Tousens” of the world are the unsung diplomatic heroes who ensure that conflicts get resolved, that people know that they’re cared-for, and who show support to their loved ones – all essential acts of kindness that probably ought to be glorified more than they are.
Tousen and her mother share a moment in the sun.
I’d like to close this off by describing one of my favorite scenes from the anime. In the third episode of season two, Tousen and Yasaburo visit Tousen’s mother, a grand matriarch of their tanuki family, in order to seek help for Yajiro, who is still unable to transform out of his amphibious form. Grandma has knowledge of a medicine that might help him learn to control his abilities again. Though they easily obtain the object they’re there to get, what follows is delightful banter between an old mother and a younger one. Grandma is so aged that it takes her some effort to remember who is who, including her own daughter, but the love between the two is so clear even if the details are hazy. I love the juxtaposition of the many tanuki sitting around the forest clearing, chanting sutras as if worshiping the elderly woman on her pedestal, with the two family members joking with each-other playfully. With Tousen enveloped in the sunlight with her mother, there’s a sense that she’s carrying on a very grand tradition of mothers in the tanuki culture.
Thank you for reading, and I hope I’ve whet your appetite for The Eccentric Family! Go check it out on Crunchyroll if you have the time (and don’t miss the second season if you enjoyed the first!).
Who were your favorite anime moms from recent (or maybe not-so-recent) anime history? Please let me know in the comments. Or just show some love for Tousen Shimogamo if you have some to share!
A certain point in time, in the continent of Telesis. The great war which divided the continent into North and South has ended after four years, and the people are welcoming a new generation. Violet Evergarden, a young girl formerly known as “the weapon”, has left the battlefield to start a new life at CH Postal Service. There, she is deeply moved by the work of “Auto Memories Dolls”, who carry people’s thoughts and convert them into words. Violet begins her journey as an Auto Memories Doll, and comes face to face with various people’s emotions and differing shapes of love. There are words Violet heard on the battlefield, which she cannot forget. These words were given to her by someone she holds dear, more than anyone else. She does not yet know their meaning but she searches to find it. – ANN
Review:This review contains minor plot spoilers for the TV Series.
I don’t like to get too hyped-up about upcoming anime because it’s so exhausting to be disappointed when the final production doesn’t live up to what was promised. I like to let anime happen on its own terms rather than measured against my often incorrect expectations. But I ask you, as one anime fan to another, what am I to do when Kyoto Animation releases a teaser trailer that’s such an incredible fever dream of flawless animation and the interplay of light and color? There was no possible way for me to ignore what I had seen and start with a completely blank slate once the series was finally posted to Netflix. Rather than try to fool myself into believing that it was possible for me to be impartial, I decided to embrace impartiality and read other reviews of the show, both episodic ones and those focused on the series as a whole. I prepared myself for possible disappointment by arming myself with information.
Was this the right tactic? I’m not entirely certain, but what I can say is that going into the experience expecting to be frustrated by certain aspects of the story left me feeling pleasantly surprised by how the series was not nearly as flawed as I had been led to believe. This sounds like faint praise, but I really did enjoy the show more than I had expected to and I’m left wondering why others were more disappointed.
The series is comprised of two concurrent story arcs – one about a country at war which has at this point reached an unsteady truce, and one about Violet Evergarden, the titular character, who comes from a place of darkness and must reacquaint herself with the subtlety and full range of human emotion. The former story is the weaker one of the two; it works well as a backdrop and helps to establish who Violet is and where she’s come from, but when it comes further into focus as part of the primary conflict it feels forced and uninteresting (one might even describe it as kind of “tryhard” if one wanted to be a little snarky). The latter is where the more meaningful and satisfying developments happen, and while Violet’s story occasionally gets a bit melodramatic, viewers like me who have a tendency to get emotionally-invested will likely eat this right up.
Violet’s scars from the war are both internal and, to the surprise of others, also external.
It does take a few episodes for Violet’s story to get moving, and as I commented to some friends after I’d watched the first three or so episodes I was concerned that the series felt overly-manipulative in its storytelling. Several of the early episodes feel like one-offs that serve to build the setting and put Violet where she needs to be, but don’t quite achieve the emotional highs they try to wring from the viewer using beautiful music and imagery. As a veteran of war remembered both for her youth and her emotionless brutality, Violet is clearly out of her element as an Auto Memory Doll. The Dolls are women who compose eloquent letters for paying clients by interpreting those clients’ feelings into written language. Violet, as an orphan who has seen (and committed) countless horrors as a child soldier, is more adept at reporting facts and taking people’s words at pure, functional face value. She may have emotions, but they’ve been so blunted by her tragic experiences that it creates a wall between her and others. Likewise, the first few episodes of the show where Violet stumbles through an ill-fitting civilian existence, feel like attempts at forced emotionality that are unsubtle and unnerving. I can’t say whether this was intentional or not, but looking back it’s interesting to me how much the structure and feel of the show mirrors Violet’s evolution.
As Violet becomes more accustomed to her work and begins to allow herself to feel and empathize with others, the show capitalizes on this to tell some of its most memorable stories. My two favorites were one in which Violet helped facilitate more genuine communication between a couple of soon-to-be-wed nobles (ignoring the squicky age difference between the two), and one in which she composed a large volume of letters from a mother to her daughter. Though both stories are still what I would qualify as one-offs, they also provided great snap-shots into Violet’s progression towards not only understanding others, but also understanding herself and the relationships that she values.
Violet returns to remember a painful moment.
I’m what I would call an empathetic viewer and I generally pay less attention to plot and continuity than many others, since I find little value in picking that stuff apart. I find more value in thinking about broad themes and considering how I was made to feel. This is the perfect example of a series that I think was made for that mode of viewing, since I recognize that there are some issues with the structure of the show and feel like it could have benefited from some reshuffling of priorities. As I mentioned earlier, possibly the weakest aspect of the show is its sub-plot revolving around the tenuous peace between its setting’s warring factions. Violet herself obtains a kind of personal emotional climax a few episodes from the end of the series, and much of the remainder of the show is devoted to a sort of shoehorned-in plot about a rebellion hell-bent on mucking up the signing of the peace treaty. The last two or three episodes of the series feature some great action pieces – an attempted bridge bombing, Violet parachuting into a war zone, a fist fight atop a moving train… all things that are cool to look at, but which feel as though they come from a completely different series (though they also provide a poignant resolution to the loss of Violet’s father figure that plagues her throughout the series, so it’s not all fluff). They’re ostensibly there to prove that Violet is no longer a cold-hearted killing machine (as she eschews using her strength and speed to actually murder anyone despite the fact that it would more easily resolve the situation), but we’ve already been shown so much evidence of her evolution that the reminder is unnecessary. The series as a whole easily made it into my good graces on its other merits and I could look at these last couple of episodes as mostly-extraneous, but I can see how many people would find this much more irritating.
The way in which Violet reaches a resolution in her troubled relationship with the Bougainvillea family is one of the high points of last few, weaker episodes.
As emotionally moving as many episodes are, they’re matched or exceeded by Kyoto Animation’s cinematic visuals and animation. If I’m being truthful, being able to watch characters move in front of gorgeous backgrounds is one of the bonuses of watching almost any Kyoto Animation series (and the main reason why I’ve pushed on through more episodes than I’d like of shows like Miss Kobayashi’s Dragon Maidand Amagi Brilliant Park) and this series is perhaps their most striking, detailed effort to date. It was the original commercial for the show that captured my attention, and while the series doesn’t quite sustain that exact look throughout, it still maintains a visual lushness that’s so far above and beyond what I’m used to as a TV anime viewer that I can’t rightly complain. I can only really fangirl in a basic way over how the show looks, but if you’re interested in some more educated commentary, check out Sakuga Blog’s series of production notes on the series.
I’m not a huge fan of Netflix’s delays when it comes to streaming anime series that I’m really anticipating, but I do appreciate the fact that I can watch an entire show (or cour, at least) in one or two sittings, so I suppose it’s kind of a wash in that sense. In this case, I got a chance to listen to lucky folks in other regions post their reactions, and despite the fact that my expectations were high they were also tempered and honed by what I was hearing. As someone with an (apparently) offbeat point of view on how stories are told it seems like I didn’t have much to worry about, as a lot of the complaints aren’t necessarily my complaints, and I truly enjoyed the show as a whole for its primary focus on feelings and human interactions and not as much on its weaker political plot. It’s gorgeous testament to KyoAni’s draftsmanship skills, as well as Netflix’s apparently pretty decent skills at picking anime series to partner with. It also gets a “5” on the Jessi Silver Cry Scale (TM) (I cried/held back tears at least 5 times while watching). If you’re someone who’s more into emotional through-lines in your entertainment, you might have a very good time with this series.
Pros: Visually beautiful. The feel of the story seems to mirror its protagonist’s development in many ways.
Cons: Political plot feels unnecessary. The real character climax arrives around episode 9 and parts of the last couple of episodes don’t fit in with those themes very well.
When high school student Sora Kashiwagi finds himself staring down a mysterious over-sized package sent to him by his self-proclaimed “adventurer” father, the last thing he expects is for it to be opened from the inside by a little mummy so small it can fit in the palm of his hand. – ANN
Review:This review contains minor plot spoilers for the TV series.
One of my favorite anime series is Natsume’s Book of Friends, which I think is an uncommonly good blend of supernatural fantasy and very sensitive human storytelling. As a fan of Japanese folklore, it’s also an excellent overview of traditional ghosts, spirits, and creatures that are inherently Japanese. But as much as I like Natsume, even I can admit that I’m not always in the mood to process its sometimes heavy story beats dealing with bullying, abusive family situations, and various forms of loss. That’s one of the primary reasons why I found How to Keep a Mummy to be such a pleasant romp. The series takes some of the components that make Natsume compelling and lightens it up to be a more comedic, fluffy distraction. It might not have as much emotional staying power, but it certainly is cute.
One aspect that makes this series a winner is its likeable lead character. From the instant that Mii-kun the mummy’s coffin shows up on his doorstep to the moments when Mii-kun and friends encounter some sort of peril, Sora proves himself to be not only a competent protector, but also a kind and caring friend and parental figure (or pet owner, I suppose?). In an age when many of us – women, men, and non-binary folks alike – are wrestling with the concept and consequences of toxic masculinity in our culture and media, it’s heartening to encounter a character like Sora who’s a teenage boy, caretaker, and friend with a special sensitivity to the world around himself.
Sora and Tazuki are close friends.
Likewise, this isn’t an anime series which banks on stories about characters working out their social hierarchy through brawling, nor is it one where characters spend each episode cutting each-other down with insults. It’s a series that revolves around its main character and his friends opening up to one-another and developing relationships, while confronting personal elements of their lives that have caused them trouble or pain. All three of the side characters have hurdles to overcome, whether it’s Motegi’s relatively benign fear of lizards that’s confronted when a tiny dragon arrives at her home, Daichi’s damaged relationships with his classmates that are the result of nightmares (cured by a friendly Baku), or Tazuki’s traumatic past encounter a mythical creature and the men trying to poach it. Part of me believes that the addition of cute supernatural creatures is somewhat redundant; while all of the character’s troubles are at least partly due to some supernatural element, they’re also real human emotions and interactions that could have mundane causes in a series without a fantasy element. I’m the type of viewer that’s satisfied watching a slice-of-life story in which the main hook is that nice people are nice to one-another and work through their interpersonal conflicts constructively, so don’t necessarily need the cuteness on top. But as a closet(?) connoisseur of cute, it’s a welcome addition that adds a little extra appeal for those viewers who are less willing to put up with low-conflict fluff entertainment.
Though I enjoyed the series, there were some bits and pieces that left me a bit cold. Sora, being that his father is out of the country, lives with his aunt Kaede. Kaede is clothing model and seems to have some amount of local fame, as other characters find her vaguely recognizable throughout the series. She’s beautiful, but also kind and supportive to Sora and friends… until she takes off her glasses, at which point she turns into a lusty sexpot with designs on her nephew. This “gag” only occurs once with a few additional references to it throughout the series, but it takes a show that I’d otherwise love to recommend to younger viewers or people who are less interested in anime’s overall penchant for goofy sexuality and complicates that recommendation. The trope of women becoming more sexual after they take off their glasses (think “sexy librarian” or “sexy teacher”) is tired and sexist, and in an anime series with really no other adult inclinations it stands out as a particularly poor choice.
Mii-kun just wants to be loved!
There’s also a push in the final two episodes of the series to make it more plot-forward, which felt unnecessary to me. There’s a recurring threat from poachers throughout the series who are on the prowl to collect monster specimens, which comes to a head when Sora and crew are attending a festival. While the provides a climax to the series, it’s also ill-fitting as the poachers never received any development and their actual threat level was questionable. I get that not everyone is satisfied when “nothing really happens,” but emotional climaxes can be just as cathartic as major plot movements, and I think that would have been a more suitable direction to take such a low-stakes show.
I watch anime from a very wide swath of different genres, some of which tend to be intense and/or depressing, so it’s nice to be able to unwind with a pleasant “healing anime” every once-in-a-while. How to Keep a Mummy was one of Winter Season’s great surprises on the front for me; cute, funny, and seemingly arriving out of nowhere to let us revel in an oddball relationship between a boy and his Mummy. I really enjoyed this anime, and if you too appreciate entertainment that, in spite of its flaws, is fundamentally kind, I think you will as well.
Pros: The main character is a good example of a male allowed to have feelings and just be nice to others. The character relationships are very satisfying. Everything is so cute!
Cons: There’s some plot conflict shoehorned into the final few episodes. There’s some sexist humor surrounding Kaede’s character that feels out-of-place.
It is Tib the black cat who leads Mary to the strange flower in the woods. When she discovers a little broomstick shortly afterwards, she is astonished to feel it jump in to action. Before she can gather her wits, it is whisking her over the treetops, above the clouds, and in to the grounds of Endor College, where: ‘All Examinations Coached for by A Competent Staff of Fully-Qualified Witches.’ – ANN
Summary: Young Mary Smith moves to the countryside to live with her great aunt Charlotte while her parents are away. Mary wants more than anything to be useful, but she’s a clumsy person and often causes more problems than she solves. While lamenting her situation one day, she encounters two cats – Tib and Gib – who lead her to a forest glade where a cluster of spectacular blue flowers are growing. Mary takes the blossoms back to her room to admire them, but soon discovers that they’re more than just attractive blooms – the flowers, called “fly-by-night” by magic users, bloom but once in seven years and have the power to grant magical abilities to even the most mundane of user.
Mary stumbles into these mystic powers and finds herself a magic broom, which takes her to Endor College, a witch school above the clouds. She’s mistaken for a magical prodigy and the headmistress goes so far as to approach her about joining the honors classes, but it isn’t long until her secret is discovered and the faculty of the school chases Mary down in search of the fly-by-night blossoms. Mary must them protect herself, rescue her friend Peter and his cats, and make sure that the flowers don’t fall into the hands of those who would try to use them for horrifying experiments.
Review: This review contains mild plot spoilers for the film.
It’s cliche at this point for one to speculate on what Japanese animation studio will turn out to be the “next Ghibli.” It’s difficult to define exactly what that’s supposed to mean – Ghibli’s output has encompassed films aimed squarely at very young children (Ponyo or My Neighbor Totoro, for example), to more intense adventures that families can enjoy (Nausicaa, Princess Mononoke, Spirited Away), to films that I’d argue take more maturity to appreciate (Porco Rosso, Only Yesterday, Grave of the Fireflies). Does Ghibli mean “animation quality?” “Story craft?” “Character and background design?” I’ve seen all of these traits thrown around as potential components of the Ghibli magic that’s captivated animation fans all over the world, and even somehow managed to gain credo with the incredibly insular, inscrutable, and in my opinion, sometimes downright infuriating Academy Award voters (seriously, Boss Baby over Your Name? You’ve got to be kidding me). Whether or not there’s a definitive way to identify the Ghibli style is a question that I’ll leave to others who are more invested in it. As for myself, I’m just enjoying the fact that, as animators and directors graduate from Ghibli, we’re able to enjoy the new perspectives they bring to this classic film making form.
Much like Hosoda Mamoru, Hiromasa Yonebayashi worked for Studio Ghibli as an animator and director before venturing off on his own to join the newly-established Studio Ponoc. Mary and the Witch’s Flower, the studio’s first feature-length animation, captures a lot of the classic family-friendly charm that typifies the bulk of Ghibli’s output, while providing a enough freshness to distinguish itself and its creative staff from their predecessors.
I commented on social media that one thing that charmed me about the film was that it seemed to speak to me as a little girl who always wanted to grow up to become a witch. Similar to the Harry Potter series, Mary and the Witch’s Flower suggests that there might be an entire secret world out there, where magic is real and those with a talent for it might be able to distinguish themselves and make impossible things happen. It helps that film eschews the tendency to make its heroine a strong but unattainable fantasy version of feminine purity, seen in such characters as Nausicaa or Kiki. It’s not that those characters are inherently terrible for women (and to be honest they’re much better role-models than a lot of “strong female characters (TM)”), but they also feel like an outsider’s perspective on what girlhood should be, when in reality it can be messier, more painful, and more awkward than it is often portrayed. I’m definitely not saying that Yonebayashi and friends have insider knowledge in pre-adolescent girlhood, but Mary feels closer to the type of person someone could meet in real life. She’s fundamentally kind and not overly-rebellious (which tends to be another direction writers take these kinds of characters), but she’s not particularly talented, gets bored easily, and goes against orders sometimes. She also lies by omission in order to feel better about herself, which ultimately gets her into trouble but is so understandable from the perspective of someone who often feels unworthy of praise. The idea that there could be a world out there somewhere in which the differences that one dislikes about oneself are seen as beneficial can become intoxicating.
The film also makes some attempt at real-world commentary, its most discernible issue-of-choice being animal (and human!) experimentation, as an offshoot of the typical environmentalism that crops up in similar films. Whether this is entirely successful is up in the air; my attitude was something akin to “I see what you did there” but more from the perspective of being repulsed by the mild body-horror aspect than buying into what I thought the creators were trying to say.
Visually the film doesn’t disappoint, and manages to combine traditional character animation, lush, vivid background art, and even some CG effects into a very appealing package. It straddles the line between traditional and modern very well, making an argument for utilizing new animation techniques even while trying to maintain a mostly hand-drawn look. After watching Shirobako multiple times, it’s interesting the kind of things I tend to notice when watching animation. In this case it was the animal movement- one of the film’s climactic moments involves a herd of animals escaping from captivity, and the horde of different creatures moving across the landscape feels very natural, chaotic, and whimsical as well. The depiction of the English countryside that serves as the setting for the more mundane parts of the story recalls some of the background art from The Secret World of Arietty; the lushness of the plant life and the misty hillsides are almost a character all their own.
One aspect of the film that I really liked was the revelation that Mary’s aunt Charlotte played an important part in the story when she was a youngster, and that Mary as a descendant of that family line is in prime position to draw things to a close. Even when young women have central roles in a narrative, it’s often the case that they’re the only female in a sea of men. In this case there are important connections between Mary and Charlotte, as well as the Endor headmistress. Additionally, Mary comes to the rescue of Peter, her male companion, multiple times throughout the film, which was a refreshing surprise.
The one thing that detracts from this story, and I suspect that others may agree with me, is that the whole package feels a bit rote. Stripping away the visual trappings and the spunky main character reveals a story that’s competently formulaic but not otherwise special in any way. It’s a fairly typical “heroine’s journey” in which a young girl is forced to look inside herself and make personal improvements, all in the guise of going on a grand adventure that, once completed, brings her back again to her mundane normal life. That said, it’s the type of movie that I wouldn’t feel uncomfortable watching with a child and which demonstrates an example of how to be heroic and fight for something ethical. It’s certainly more tolerable than your typical CG talking animal movie, and it doesn’t talk down to its intended audience.
The more creators there are making great movies, the better, and having graduated from Studio Ghibli I think Yonebayashi has a bright future ahead of him bringing to screen the type of anime films that have wide appeal. Mary and the Witch’s Flower is an above-average interpretation of a Western-style fairy tale that centralizes a somewhat-atypical female heroine and brings to life a magical world that might make some viewers long for the opportunity to attend a witch school. Check it out at a local film festival, or grab the disc when it’s released in May.
Pros: Mary is a spunky heroine with some realistic pre-teen flaws. The female relationships provide a good through-line to the film. The artistry is excellent.
Cons: The story is pretty average and can feel like a re-hash of old concepts.
Streaming: Amazon Prime
