Recently, I posted an essay that I’d been working on for a while. I don’t blame you if you missed it; it didn’t really get the traction that I expected, and at such a length and dealing with the subject matter that it did I probably shouldn’t be surprised that it came and went without much fanfare. Often the writing you’re really proud of doesn’t hit the same way that some one-off “just for fun” type post does; It’s just the nature of posting your writing on the internet. In any case, after spending a lot of energy reliving some heavy material (and writing, editing, and re-editing it), I found myself in the mood for something a little bit lighter. Lucky for me that a very cute clip of animation happened to grace my Twitter timeline and I headed over to YouTube to chase after its source.
Well, the outside world has been a bit of a dumpster fire lately, but at least there’s still anime to watch! In all seriousness, I’m not really someone who sees anime as “escapist” entertainment; for me, it’s something I actively engage with and not just so I can “turn my brain off” or feel good (though no hate to anyone who consumes their anime for those reasons). But sometimes things happen in real life that make you want to just step back for a little while and indulge in something that’s expected and predictable, and no matter what anime series I’m watching, the familiar cadence of the exaggerated Japanese language style and colorful characters are comfort food for me.
One thing to note about this post is that neither Breakers or Natsunagu are available on any official streaming platform in the US, so I went about obtaining them the “old-fashioned” way. If that bothers you, those reviews are the second and third ones in this post so they are easy to skip.
I usually like saving short-form anime impressions for later, since that leaves enough time for a couple of episodes to arrive, offsetting the lack of content. There seem to be far fewer anime shorts this season than in previous ones, so I wonder if the form is falling out of favor with creators or broadcasters. In any case, below are impressions of this season’s selections.
We’re finally rounding the corner to home plate for the Spring 2019 anime season here at S1E1. Aside from some sequels to series I’m not far enough into to post an educated reaction (sorry, fans of Ace of Diamond, Bakumatsu Crisis, Strike Witches, and Isekai Quartet) and some Netflix-only series (I’m weeping for my lack of Carole and Tuesday right now), these are all we have. Normally with such short episodes I’ll watch at least a couple of episodes to get an impression of the series, rather than just one. Be aware that there may be more spoiler potential in these examples.
High school student Ichirō’s female teacher Kojima-sensei is famous for being a “demon teacher.” However, in front of Ichirō she seems to be air-headed and clumsy, and he keeps finding himself in perverted situations with her in places like the in men’s bathroom, in the men’s bathhouse, in the pool, at the school infirmary, and elsewhere. – ANN
Episode Summary: Ichiro has to use the restroom, and the most private place to do his business is an out-of-the-way men’s restroom on the school grounds. He doesn’t expect to see anyone, but when he opens the stall he’s surprised by none other than his female teacher, Kojima-sensei. The stall locks behind him, and the two wrestle with this uncomfortable reality until neither student nor teacher can “hold it” any longer.
The next week, Ichiro decides to cut class by hiding in the school infirmary, but coincidentally Kojima-sensei is there sleeping off a cold. She sends Ichiro to get her some medicine, but the only fever suppressant left in the cabinet comes in suppository form. Ichiro takes one for the team to help his teacher, but once she discovers that he’s skipping class, she returns the favor in the worst possible way.
Nona is a bishōjo character figure that the young male otaku office worker Haruto bought and she suddenly comes to life, and begins moving and talking on her own. – ANN
Episode Summary: Nona is a space explorer, or at least that’s the premise of the anime in which her character stars. During one of her quests, she disguises herself as a doll in the workshop of a giant carver. When she awakens, however, she finds herself in the home of a very different giant.
Haruto is a work-from-home programmer with an otaku’s spirit, and Nona is the star of his favorite anime. He bought a character figure as a show of his devotion, but he never expected for it to come to life. After some misunderstandings, Haruto and Nona strike a deal; he’ll help Nona explore the “giants” of planet Earth if she’ll allow him to accompany her on her mission.
Hello, friends! While I’ve decided not to tackle sequels this season for various reasons (lack of time being one of them, relative difficulty being another; I’d also rather not get Index or SAO fans after me), I wanted to poke around this season’s short anime.
Shorts are always kind of a mixed bag. While there are some shorts I’ve really enjoyed, their short run-time often feels like a sample rather than a meal. For the purposes of this post, I’ll be watching 2-3 episodes (or more) of each, so that I can ensure I’ll have enough material to work with. Though some anime series are accompanied by more gag-focused shorts, I’ll only be watching original short-form anime for this post.
Summary: Tae is about to experience one of her dreams – living in Tokyo as an adult. In order to make this dream a reality, she’s sharing a living space with three sisters and another former classmate. Tae is outgoing and has no trouble settling into the home, but there’s one minor detail that she didn’t know about ahead of time – in addition to their different personalities and style-sense, all of her new roommates also harbor within them special abilities. One can stop time, another can shoot energy beams, and there’s even a young woman who can duplicate the abilities of other powerful individuals. Tae feels like the odd-one-out… until she discovers a special ability of her own.
Now that all the available first-run anime has been taken care of, I thought I might do a compilation post of all the sequels and miscellaneous short anime available this season (at least those which can be had legally at the time of this writing). Some of these are sequels I’ve been anticipating quite a bit, and some of them are sequels of series that I’m not familiar with – there isn’t anything that’s a short that’s not also a sequel, and it appears that there wasn’t really any “stuff” (what I call anime made for kids that won’t hold much interest for most adult viewers) to speak of this time. I know my providing commentary on something I have little context for will be controversial to some readers, but I plan to approach it from the angle of whether I would want to go back and watch the previous episodes or not. Apologies to anyone who feels that I’m misrepresenting any series here; I imagine I’m not the only person in history who’s approached longer-running anime this way, though.
It goes without saying, but there are likely spoilers for every series written about here; if you’re not caught up on your favorites, you’re likely better off waiting until you have time to get up to speed. Also, I skipped Overlord III because it seemed more like a split-cour continuation rather than a true sequel… and I watched about three minutes of it and had no idea what was going on!
Retsuko is a 25-year old red panda who works in her dream company’s accounting department. But it turns out that she is forced to keep doing more and more impossible tasks by her superiors and co-workers. She doesn’t talk back to them, but she still has to let off steam, so she ends up going to karaoke by herself and singing death metal. – ANN
Copyright 2018 – Sanrio/Netflix
Streaming: Netflix
Source: Original
Episodes: 10 (15 minutes apiece)
Review: About two years ago I caught wind of Aggressive Retsuko, a new Sanrio property debuting in two minute chunks on YouTube. The concept really tickled me – a twenty-something OL who puts up with typical office politics during her day job, lets out her many frustrations in the evening by growling death metal into a microphone at her local Karaoke parlor. A bit of a one-note joke to be sure, but one that hit me the right way and provided some decent belly laughs. I never watched much of it because it wasn’t that easily available, but I definitely indulged in some of the merchandise when it started popping up in my local Hot Topic and other Asian pop-culture shops. When this sequel appeared it actually took my by surprise; I only caught wind of it after reading Jacob Chapman’s preview of the first couple of episodes the most recent Spring Preview Guide over at ANN, and initially questioned the choice to make the episodes longer than their original two minute format. I doubted that one gag, even a pretty good one, could sustain a longer episode, much less make it entertaining.
As they say, boy was I wrong. While Aggretsuko is still primarily what I would call a comedy, it’s also a fairly robust critique of some Japan-specific (but still widely-relatable) office issues, especially as they affect women in a workplace setting.
One of the series’s many successes is how Retsuko is presented as a character, because despite her cutesy, merch-ready appearance her situation feels so genuine. She’s a cute, earnest person who feels lucky to be working at one of her dream companies, but her accounting job is anything but satisfying and her situation is greatly complicated by the fact that she doesn’t interact well with some of her coworkers and doesn’t have the personality that helps her to play games and suck up to the right people. She tries to lay low and get through the day, but this only turns her into a dumping ground for others’ work and, unsurprisingly, she’s unwilling to tell anyone “no” and spoil the office harmony. While my work situation is leaps and bounds better than depicted in this series, I’m fully sympathetic to the idea that it’s just easier to become a “yes man” and take on more and more work than to speak up and potentially make someone else’s life more difficult. Maybe it’s due to my problems with social anxiety or my poor handle on how to maintain human relationships, but I can see how the idea of “harmony over all else” can be desirable while also ultimately harmful.
Mr. Ton is a literal chauvinist pig.
Retsuko is also exposed to some of the most blatantly awful chauvinism I’ve seen depicted in media in a long, long time. Every interaction with her boss, Mr. Ton, is a tension-filled exercise in suffering through off-color comments about women’s place in the office and what jobs they’re meant to perform. Each time Retsuko got caught in the cross-hairs I could feel myself welling up with frustration. I’ve luckily never been in her exact position or had a boss so profoundly terrible, but I have been made to feel like an outsider and I’ve heard my share of casual sexism, so subtle and insidious that it doesn’t register even with people who otherwise have a handle on those sorts of things. It’s exhausting and defeating, and even several days later I have to marvel at the ability of this series to capture that and bottle it for consumption. I’m reminded a bit of Hataraki Man, another workplace series that follows the trials of several women working for a magazine publisher and examines their specific hurdles and ways of coping with unjust and unequal treatment and expectations. In that case, the protagonist is hyper-competent and admired for her ability to “work like a man,” when the men around her don’t put in half the amount of work that she does. Both series are very telling about what we expect of men and women in the same setting, and those concerned with workplace equality will likely be similarly frustrated by both.
This is supposed to be a comedy anime, right?
Gori and Washimi help to mentor Retsuko.
If the series were nothing more than a string of upsetting circumstances for Retsuko to deal with via death metal therapy, it’s likely that it wouldn’t be upbeat enough to maintain its own sense of humor. What helps immensely is that the show allows Retsuko to get by with a little help from her friends, as well as with some personal mentorship from a couple of high-powered working women in her company who have seen it all and lived to tell the tale. Retsuko is by no means a loner and often gets support in one form or another from Fenneko, a snarky fennec fox who survives each workday through pure cynicism, and Haida, a hyena who’s an everyday normal guy nursing a crush on our heroine. There’s a good sense that these three have been in the trenches together for a while and the others do a decent, if flawed, job of talking Retsuko out of some situations. Fenneko in particular was a real source of entertainment for me just because of her deadpan delivery and ability to see right through the world’s fakery. She’s not a character who would work well as a protagonist, but in small doses she was hilarious. As Retsuko connects with Washimi and Gori, two women who she has only admired from afar prior to their meeting in a yoga class, she learns that there are opportunities to get things done even when the system seems rigged and unfair. There is a lot of depth in these interactions, especially when Washimi and Gori attempt to help Retsuko directly with her management or try to guide her towards making good life decisions, and I think they really elevate the show.
My one complaint, and it’s a relatively minor one, is that the series attempts to insert a sub-plot of sorts near the end and isn’t able to devote enough time to it for it to fully mature. In her desperation, Retsuko starts to believe that her only “out” from her job is to find a partner and get married so that she can live as a housewife. She ends up falling for a guy with zero personality whose only real distinguishing quality is his low-key lack of consideration for her. She grins and bears it for a while until she’s forced to face reality. The lesson, of course, is that we tend to tolerate so many things when we feel that our lives are hopeless, and in doing so give up our chance at happiness and dignity. I really loved that message, and only wish that the show had been a couple more episodes long to allow it to unfold more gradually. As a sentiment, it was absolutely right on the money and just another way in which the series surprised me.
In the couple of weeks that the series has been available I’ve seen the amount of fanwork for it blow up completely, so I doubt that my giving it a glowing review is somehow going to inform anyone who isn’t already aware and interested. But in case someone does randomly stumble across this anime blog (or, more likely, discover the show while adding dozens of things to their Netflix queue), I hope maybe my words or their own curiosity will give them the push that they need to give it a try. And then, maybe we can continue to try to dispel the myth that cutesy-looking cartoons are only for kids.
Pros: The protagonist is very sympathetic. Portrays Retsuko’s tough situations in a way that feels real and relatable. The character relationships and interactions add a lot of depth.
Cons: The late-game romantic subplot could have used a couple more episodes of exploration.
Ogikubo is the name of the specially designated area in space in the Milky Way where Earthlings and aliens can live together. Luluco is a female middle school student who lives with her father, and no matter where she is, Luluco is a common, “super normal” girl. As she is living her normal life, one day the mysterious transfer student ΑΩ Nova abruptly appears before her. That meeting will change Luluco’s fate. – ANN
Review:This review contains spoilers for events that occur throughout the series.
There’s a large sub-set of anime series that seem to trade primarily on their perceived “wackiness.” “Oh, those cartoons from Japan, they’re so weird,” people sometimes say, confused by somewhat by anime’s blending of cultural call-backs they’re not familiar with, referential comedy based on other media that will likely never be available in the West, and characters that don’t seem to reflect any real human attributes. Add to that the fact that so many shows nowadays, comedy series especially, arrive in such short, punctuated doses, here and gone in the blink of an eye, and it’s no wonder that many of these silly, colorful, and over-the-top anime are incredibly difficult to relate to (especially if you’re getting on in “fandom years” like me).
Luluco endures an awkward transformation into the Judgement Gun.
Short form anime seem to only be increasing in popularity and ubiquity, but until recently I just couldn’t fine many that I actually liked. It’s only been in the past couple of years or so that several short series have started to make decent use of their format and branch out from comedy into other realms, like Yamishibai‘s horror tales or She and her Cat‘s delicate look at life through a feline’s eyes. Still, comedy has primarily the format’s bread and butter over the years, and there have been several good ones lately. While many people have been trying to get me to watch Please Tell Me! Galko-chan (I’ll get around to it… someday), which I’ve heard called “Feminist” and “like Broad City, the anime,” I haven’t found myself in the correct frame of mind to tackle it yet. Those are both really large claims to make, and I’m afraid of ultimately being disappointed if/when it misses the mark. On the other hand, I had no trouble keeping up with Space Patrol Luluco from week-to-week, I think primarily because there’s some inherent part of me that just clicks with Hiroyuki Imaishi‘s body of work.
The anime that Imaishi has had a strong hand in tend toward the silly and perverse, with a lot of over-the-top movement and fiery, uncomplicated emotion. They can be both barely-animated in the same vein as many Western made-for-adults animation series tend to be, and jam-packed with cinematic, bombastic movement, within the same episode. Their subject matter could be silly, perverse, or grotesque, but with the ability to turn serious when needed or at least provide lip service towards exploring more complex topics. It’s like he walks into a project with a big old bag full of contradictory nonsense, and somehow has the ability to smash it all together into something visually appealing and entertaining to watch. I find that pretty fascinating.
Luluco is a sci-fi comedy anime that has Imaishi’s storytelling and directorial fingerprints all over it. It’s about a self-professed normal girl who wants to live an average teenage life. She worries about “teenage girl stuff” like finding her first love, getting along with others in school, and dealing with her dad. The twist is that she lives in an area called Ogikubo that’s a hotbed for alien activity where creatures from all across the local corner of the universe interact with one-another and occasionally cause trouble. Luluco’s dad is a member of the Space Patrol, an agency that sniffs out unlawful alien activity and “deals with it.” It’s when Dad “accidentally” eats some contraband material with his breakfast and freezes his body solid that Luluco is thrust into taking his place until he’s better. Goodbye, normal life! All is not lost, however, since with her is Alpha-Omega Nova, a very attractive boy her age that Luluco instantly starts crushing on. Chasing down criminal aliens and embarrassingly transforming into a giant gun aren’t so bad when you get to spend all your time allowing your first love to bud and flourish!
Lalaco Godspeed arrives to steal Ogikubo.
Eventually Luluco’s mom shows up (she’s a space pirate with a real rag-tag crew), steals Ogikubo itself and takes it to the far corners of the universe, and Luluco and company are sent on a mad chase to retrieve it, all the while discovering just how many truly goofy planets there are out there. Eventually Luluco’s very love for Nova-kun becomes a major plot point and the fate of Ogikubo and all its characters rests in what the big-bag refers to as a teenage girl’s “shitty, worthless first love.”
Imaishi seems to have a way with female anime characters and their stories. I wouldn’t necessarily call it feminist (those of you who have seen me in person at conventions lately know that there are reasons for that), but I do think that he and those who work with him seem to have more of a vested interest in presenting girls and women in a different light than you see in many anime. In Panty and Stocking (a series that generally seemed to confound a lot of fans), we get two main characters who are basically unapologetic about their “vices.” Panty has a lot of unattached sexual encounters, and Stocking eats sugary sweet food all day. Ultimately, I interpreted the series as a whole as being critical of these mostly unexamined prejudices that are held against women, both in the anime and in real life. In Kill la Kill, in the correct light, you can tease out messages about body shaming against women and the constant pressure we face to be dressed a certain way, as well as the value of female camaraderie and friendship. There are major issues with these anime series, too, which is partly why I’m hesitant about lifting them up as paragons of female-focused entertainment. They contain plenty of leering and fanservicey stuff to round out their run time (though I maintain that late-era “good” Gainax and Trigger material has a way with fanservice that I personally find less gross than the norm), so that’s something to consider.
Luluco close to death (from embarrassment?)
Luluco as a whole skews a bit younger with its characters. Its atmosphere, while appropriately zany and wacky, is a lot more tame in terms of the visual sexualization, so its handling of female-focused plot points comes across more purely than some of its predecessors. Ignoring the sci-fi element all together, the story is focused on the value of a young girl’s first love. This might not seem like particularly groundbreaking material, but consider that anime most often tackles this subject in the context of school drama where a young woman ends up becoming consumed with her feelings for the object of her affections to the exclusion of (most) everything else. The crush acts as both the focus of the plot, as well as an aspect of it which is used by outsiders and naysayers to trivialize the type of anime made for a young female audience. I knew someone at one time who called shoujo anime something like “those pointy-chin shows” referring to the types of character designs that tend to show up in those series. Getting beyond the fact that it’s kind of a funny term and there are a lot of mediocre shoujo anime (like any other type of anime) out there that kind of deserve it, I find that there are a lot of viewers who generally just trivialize anime series that have too strong a focus on feelings and emotions, and especially uncomplicated-yet-overwhelming pubescent romantic feelings, ostensibly because they find themselves unable or unwilling to try to relate to those emotions of the teenage girls who serve as protagonists.
There’s a lot to unpack there, but what amuses me about Luluco is that it does so without hesitation and without looking back… you just have to be paying attention to notice it. Luluco lays its aesthetics on thick with its bright colors, cutesy characters, madcap comedy, and constant parody humor, not to mention its lightning-fast pacing and Inferno Cop style plot progression. Luluco’s girlish crush on Nova-kun seems like a side note for most of the series, a gag that keeps cropping up that serves to re-emphasize just how bland of a personality he has. It’s only near the end of the show when the big baddie is revealed that we find out how central Luluco’s feelings were the entire time. The Blackholeians, who make their living stealing valuable items throughout the universe, have decided that it would be more interesting to start seeking out things that are considered utterly worthless. They’ve now come to the conclusion that the first love of a teenage girl is probably the most utterly worthless, most bland and most insignificant thing out there, so they steal it (visually represented by a clear heart-shaped jewel) from Luluco, killing her. Luluco then has to journey back from Hell itself to then prove the true value of her feelings.
The essence of Luluco’s pure and innocent first love.
I was incredibly impressed by this final story arc because within the microcosm of an otherwise very silly show, the creators were able to express a frustration that I’ve had with almost every kind of fandom I’ve ever been in – “this thing you care about isn’t important to me, so therefore it doesn’t matter.” Doubly-so when said by male fans when referring to entertainment targeted towards girls and women. Thinking back, I don’t think there are many people who would look at their first crush or even their early relationships, and think to themselves “this was substantial and it was made to last.” There are so many factors, including physiological ones and those relating to experience and emotional maturity, that generally doom these early relationships to be nothing more than learning experiences on the road to adulthood. But they were real and they were important, and at the time they felt all-consuming. They had value in they way they helped form my adult self; thinking back to those memories, I can tell which relationships helped me learn to appreciate others’ hobbies (even if they weren’t my hobbies) and which ones caused me to let my personal boundaries deteriorate, setting me up for a long road towards learning to respect myself again. There were happy times and challenging experiences. Sometimes there was more bad than good, but even if the emotions themselves were fleeting and over dramatic, they were always real and they were always important. Some of the same things could be said for the books, movies, television, blogs, or games that drew our attention as younger people. Some of them might have less objective “value,” and looking at them now we can tell that they were pretty terrible (I used to be in love with so much terrible anime, you guys), but people don’t attach themselves to fandoms and media for no reason; there’s always something there that speaks to us when we need to hear it.
When Luluco comes back from Hell and takes full ownership of her feelings for Nova, it’s then that she proves her power. Because there is nothing more emotionally powerful than being able to fully value one’s self and one’s emotions, at least as far as defeating black hole aliens is concerned. I like to interpret Luluco’s powerful return as a giant middle finger towards those who under-value entertainment made for women, especially since the message was stealthed into a show that from the outside seems to be nothing more than a cracked-out (and possibly a little bit self-congratulatory) comedy romp from Studio Trigger and company.
Luluco gets advice from a friend.
All that aside, there are some fun references to other Trigger properties throughout the series – Little Witch Academia, Kill la Kill, and Sex & Violence with Machspeed being the really obvious ones; Inferno Cop shows up in an awesome cameo later on and there are some strong aesthetic references towards Gurren Lagann, too. I would also be remiss if I went without mentioning the third member of the Space Patrol team, Midori, an alien gyaru who starts as sort of a love-rival to Luluco but ends up becoming supportive (though no less sassy) by the end. She’s used more as comic relief and provides a good foil for the pure-hearted Luluco, but unfortunately doesn’t spend much time front-and-center. Luluco’s mother, Lalaco Godspeed, is also a hoot (with prominent hooters, eheheh). The only downside is that the short format means that these fun side characters don’t really receive as much attention as I would have liked, but maybe there’ll be a sequel someday.
I’ve been a little bit snarky in person with some folks this past season, calling this “Studio Trigger’s good Spring 2016 anime series.” I’m only partly joking when I say that, though, since as much as I thought Kiznaiver was a decent accomplishment with a lot of good ideas to share, I felt a stronger emotional connection with this series. Luluco just always seemed more focused on the story it wanted to tell and on the character it decided to feature in the telling. Its entire run time only constitutes about 1/3rd of your average anime series, and yet I think it was more successful in arguing for its central conceits than a lot of other series out there. I may even have shed a tear once or twice (whether from laughing or crying, I’ll never tell). I have a tendency to dig deep into shows that I really enjoy, drawing conclusions that others might not agree with, and I gather that’s the case with this show, too. But they’re my feelings, and those feelings have power for me. And isn’t that really what’s important?
Pros: The show has a definite sense of style to it, with cute character designs, and a good balance of stills and more animated portions. I thought most of the gags were pretty funny and enjoyed the references to other anime throughout the show. There’s a good message to be found about the value of formative (and especially romantic) experiences, especially those that women have which are often belittled by the mainstream.
Cons: If you choose to seek out some of the anime referenced in the show, be warned that Sex & Violence with Machspeed is incredibly racy and grotesque, something that’s more hinted at in the episode of Luluco that references it. The short runtime leaves little time to flesh out some of the side characters, like Lalaco and Midori. Please make a sequel!
