Ritsuka played guitar but has lost interest in the instrument. One day, he meets Mafuyu, who is holding a broken guitar. Ritsuka unwillingly starts teaching Mafuyu the guitar, but when he hears Mafuyu’s voice, things suddenly begin to change for Ritsuka. – ANN
Review:Note: this review may contain mild spoilers for the anime series.
When I was in high school I played flute in the concert band. I enjoyed it so much that I even took outside lessons and participated in the annual solo competitions put on by the area schools. I didn’t have a great time in school overall, but being able to express myself through music is one of the better memories I have of that time in my life. I came to the realization at some point that when your emotions operate outside what other people are willing to tolerate on a regular basis, it’s life’s other more artistic avenues that serve as an alternative outlet for those complicated, powerful feelings.
Given is the story of a budding relationship between two high school students, a tale it heartily accomplishes through sensitive, slow-burn character development. But it’s also a peek into the life of someone dealing with trauma and the shame that seemed to crop up in its aftermath. Unsurprisingly, it’s music that seems to tie everything together.
In the year 2063, travelling through space has become commonplace. Eight students from Caird High School, along with one child, set out for a school camp on a nearby planet. However, the students are then mysteriously transported 5,000 light years away from home, with no way to call for help. Aboard an abandoned spaceship they call the Astra, these nine students slowly try to make their way back and figure out why they were transported in the first place. – ANN
Review:Note – This review may contain minor plot spoilers for the series. Because this show presents major revelations in its second half, I’ve done my best to only speak as generally as possible.
Despite the fact that many fans my age were introduced to anime through the iconic science fiction titles that trickled their way over to the West in the early years, it feels as though it’s been quite a while since the sci-fi genre has really been front-and-center. While the surge in slice-of-life anime in the early 2000’s has certainly provided me with many favorite series, and the current popularity of isekai stories is starting to bear more fruit for fans of my tastes, sometimes I just get nostalgic for stories about space travel and the intrepid spirit of humanity. Astra: Lost in Space, a recently-concluded series from this Summer, does a real bang-up job of scratching that itch.
Haiji Kiyose is an enthusiastic fourth year student at Kansei University who has been stealthily gathering men for the track and field team of the campus. As Kakeru Kurahara, a snappish first year student, becomes the promising tenth member; Kiyose dreams of participating at the Hakone Ekiden, a famous relay university marathon race. – ANN
This post was originally written for the April 2019 issue of Mangaverse, the anime, manga, and comics ‘zine published by the National Fantasy Fan Federation (N3F) which I am currently in charge of editing. If you are interested in contributing to Mangaverse, please contact me at jessi@s1e1.com. I am always on the lookout for writers and artists!
This post may have been minimally-edited from its original form to correct minor errors and/or include hyperlinks.
Review:This review contains minor spoilers for the
series.
Exercise has never been one of my strengths. In elementary
school, we were tested every year on how quickly we could run a mile (4 laps
around the outdoor gravel-coated track). My best time was somewhere in the
12-minute range, and that was when I was in 1st grade. I think, deep
inside, I never saw the point of running when walking was a perfectly
serviceable mode of personal transportation. That, or I have always been
chronically out-of-shape and unwilling to admit it.
An unnamed protagonist happens to find a diary in a hospital one day. The diary belongs to his classmate, a girl named Sakura Yamauchi, who is revealed to be suffering from a terminal illness in her pancreas, and who only has a few months left to live. Sakura explains that the protagonist is the only person apart from her family that knows about her condition. The protagonist promises to keep Sakura’s secret. Despite their completely opposite personalities, the protagonist decides to be together with Sakura during her last few months. – ANN
Review: Please be aware that this review contains spoilers for the film.
As anime titles go, I Want to Eat Your Pancreas is certainly one of the more eccentric ones I’ve come across. While the wording may conjure up images of cannibalistic zombie-like entertainment, the film (which explains its odd moniker fairly early on) has no relation to the undead. Instead, it wears the clothing of a bittersweet, ephemeral teenage romance, telling the story of a young man’s coming-of-age after meeting a girl who will never have that luxury.
Review:Please be aware that this review contains spoilers of the film.
There are some who say that the college years are the best years of a person’s life. While I disagree with that for the most part and wouldn’t trade my adulthood away for anything, I do believe there are certain things you can only get away with doing in your early 20’s. For me, those things involved staying up to all hours and then stumbling to class in the morning with no permanent consequences, eating all sorts of ridiculous junk food, and packing 8 or 9 people into one hotel room when traveling to out-of-town anime conventions. Looking back, it’s hard to see how my body and spirit were able to tolerate those things, but now that I think about it there was probably a little bit if youthful magic involved.
Review:This review may contain spoilers for the series.
Everyone’s life experiences are different, but if I could name one thing that’s been relatively consistent among the people I know, it’s that they all have some experience working in customer service. Whether, like me, it’s something they did during high school and college to help pay for school or other needs, or whether it’s work they do today, it’s an experience we can all bond over.
When I was in high school thinking of applying for a part time job, I had a mental hierarchy of what I’d like to do. I definitely wanted to avoid food service if I could; I have a weird aversion to getting greasy and wasn’t keen on slinging fries. I ended up working for nearly 7 years at a big-box discount retailer which, like just about any service job, was a good learning experience that taught me the joys and challenges of working to help customers.
A family is living in a small house in an obscure corner of a certain city—in that house lives the family’s spoiled four-year-old boy Kun-chan. When Kun-chan gets a little sister named Mirai, he feels that his new sister stole his parents’ love from him, and is overwhelmed by many experiences he undergoes for the first time in his life. In the midst of it all, he meets an older version of Mirai, who has come from the future. – ANN
Review: Please be aware that this review contains some plot and thematic spoilers for the film.
Change is difficult for us all, but as adults its inevitability is already mostly a known quantity even if its specific form almost never is. For young children, though, each change, no matter how small, can seem like a drastic upheaval. Just when they’re starting to learn their world’s rules, that world might change and transform into some new state of existence. As we grow older we begin to forget how unfamiliar and drastic these feelings are, and this is something that I think about quite a bit. Though we might grumble at the toddler throwing a tantrum in Target, we ought to consider the tools we’ve developed to handle the negative emotional waves that crash over our psyche, and understand that we didn’t always have access to those when we were their age.
Mirai is a film that demonstrates deep compassion and empathy towards children who are beginning to embark on the exhilarating and terrifying “firsts” that many of us encounter early in our lives. Kun-chan, the little boy at the center of the movie’s story, undergoes a very strenuous emotional journey during which he comes to realize the importance of the role he plays in his family, as well as the connections he has with its various other members, some of whom he never had the chance to meet.
Mizore Yoroizuka and Nozomi Kasaki are a pair of best friends in their final year of high school. They’re both obsessed with the school’s brass band club. With Mizore on the oboe and Nozomi on the flute, they spend their days in happiness–until the club begins to practice songs inspired by the fairy tale Liz und ein Blauer Vogel (Liz and the Blue Bird). Immersed in this story, Mizore and Nozomi begin to realize that there may be no such thing as being together forever. – ANN
Review:Please be aware, this review contains spoilers of the film, as well as of season 2 of Sound! Euphonium.
It’s often said that, if you truly love someone, you need to be willing to let them go. The other half of the saying suggests that if the relationship was meant to be, then person you love will eventually return to you. But what about the sometimes transient relationships that arise out of a particular moment’s necessity? There’s nothing that says friendships built around shared employment, a similar class schedule, or even an after-school club membership can’t last well beyond the time and place of their creation. But more often than not, it seems as though once the experience has ended and the opportunity for shared strife is gone, a relationship that may have seemed rock-solid suddenly might start to lose its context and fade away.
“Starlight” is the song and dance revue troupe loved throughout the world. Karen and Hikari make a promise with each other when they’re young that one day they’ll stand on that stage together. Time passes, and now the girls are 16 years old. Karen is very enthusiastic about the lessons she takes every day, holding her promise close to her heart. Hikari has transferred schools and is now away from Karen. But the cogs of fate turn, and the two are destined to meet again. The girls and other “Stage Girls” will compete in a mysterious audition process to gain acceptance into the revue. – ANN
Review:This review contains plot and thematic spoilers for the anime. Heavy spoilers are indicated; the section in question can be skipped.
Do you believe in fate? That once our life is set in motion, its pre-determined pathway is truly an immovable arc of destiny? Anime is filled with stories of prophesies fulfilled and traditions unbroken; it’s a theme whose expression allows us to believe in the possibility and comfort of things greater than ourselves. There are also plenty of anime, however, that dare to suggest that we, as human beings, are more responsible for our lives than some of us may be comfortable fully accepting. I tend to like these stories better, because rather than simply implying that our poor state of being is solely the result of our own mistakes, it suggests that we might also have some power to alter the flow of the river and set ourselves on a better course, given the opportunity and support of course.
Revue Starlight is, in its simplest form, a story about a group of girls choosing not to accept an exclusionary story – a fate which does not encompass the happiness of them all. Instead, they attempt to re-write the stage-play of their existence and to reinterpret their story as one which allows room for successful fulfillment of their desires.
Kōta Hasegawa is a high school boy who loves the yellow Pom Pom Purin dog. By mere coincidence, he ends up attending the same school as Yū Mizuno, a boy who likes the bunny My Melody. Yū tells Kōta that there’s nothing to be ashamed of for liking Sanrio’s cute characters. Together, Kōta, Yū, Shunsuke Yoshino, Ryō Nishimiya, and Seiichiro Minamoto learn to accept their love of the characters instead of feeling embarrassed. – ANN
Review:This review may contain spoilers for the series.
When was the first time you felt ashamed for liking something? When I was in elementary school, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles was huge. I loved the cartoon series and the video games more than almost anything else. I really wanted to own some of the toys, but as a fourth-grader without a steady source of income, it was up to me to try to get my parents to buy them for me. Looking back as an adult, I can logically say that there’s nothing wrong with a girl wanting to own action figures, but all the toy commercials had boys in them and even at my young age I was afraid of being judged or laughed-at for wanting to play with toys made for boys. The happy ending to my story was that my mother never once judged me or made fun of me for my preference, and I went on to build a large collection of action figures, Star Trek figures, and other miscellaneous fandom toys that eventually led to the overgrown collection of anime figurines I have today.
That, of course, was just my experience, but not everyone has the luxury of crossing society’s arbitrary gender boundaries with their likes and dislikes, especially boys and men who enjoy things typically aimed at girls and women (because believe it or not being a girl or woman is valued as lesser by our society, even by people who might not necessarily think so consciously). I know my husband has gotten some flak for his enjoyment of My Little Pony and preference for pinks and purples, and in an even broader sense, there are people who are harassed and harmed because their gender expression doesn’t fit into a certain narrow binary. Sanrio Boys isn’t a heavy hitter when it comes to discussing the latter; in fact, the series doesn’t really touch on gender itself very deeply. But it does spend a lot of time looking at the former – boys who express themselves through their enjoyment of characters and products typically aimed at women.
Kouta was picked on for his love of Pom Pom Purin.
Each of the five main characters in this series exemplifies the different ways that people experience liking things outside the mainstream. Kota, the everyman protagonist, was picked on by his peers as a child because he carried around a Pom Pom Purin stuffed animal. Yu loves My Melody without shame, but his younger sister finds his hobby disgusting. Ryou is the youngest sibling in a family of older sisters, and fears being pigeonholed into the role of an effeminate younger brother. There’s nothing particularly complicated about any of the guys’ circumstances, but the simple injustices of their situations are laid bare for the audience in a way that I find very relateable. I like to think that most viewers would tend to realize how hurtful bullying someone for their hobbies is (and I imagine there are a lot of anime fans out there who have gotten picked on for being into “weird cartoons”), but the straightforward, sometimes ham-handed way the series insists upon the fact that young men can and do like cutesy characters and merchandise is something some fans may not have thought much about, even considering their own circumstances.
Beyond its central message, the show is pretty light on narrative and hits a lot of trope-y beats that would be at home in any high-school-based anime series. There’s a strong emphasis on friendship and relationship-building between the boys, a sprinkling of dramatic interpersonal conflict, a whole boatload of earnestness (and some dramatic overwork-to-the-point-of-self-destruction) from our main-man Kota, and a school culture festival to tie the entire thing up with a sparkly bow at the end. It also spends some time paying attention to its assumed viewer base (young women, the same individuals who tend to be major consumers of Sanrio products) by not only featuring cute guys being cute together on a regular basis, but also getting those same characters into situations where they hang out together buying merchandise or take on princely personas for the sake of a school theater production. There’s certainly nothing wrong with this; as far as fanservice goes it’s easily some of the more innocuous I’ve seen lately. It does distract a bit from what I see as an atypically good toy commercial disguised as an average anime series.
It’s a fun day at Sanrio Puroland.
The commercialized bits of the series are admittedly pretty entertaining and mostly forgivable. The boys go shopping for Sanrio toys and merchandise on a regular basis (naturally) and those bits made me long for the days when there was still a Sanrio store at the Mall of America (I’m probably showing my age by saying that). They also make a big mid-series trip to Sanrio Puroland, the Sanrio theme park in Tokyo with costumed characters and themed areas and performances. There’s a particularly ridiculous montage in the episode where the boys wander through all the areas and big attractions, dressing up in costumes and interacting with their favorite characters. It’s pure fanservice in more ways than one, but it’s indulgent rather than trashy – I’ll give it a pass (and be jealous that I’m not in their place). Having seen many more shameless toy commercials disguised as anime in my time, the fact that this series blends the fluff with some fairly substantial character moments is pretty good by me.
Ultimately whether viewers are likely to glean anything from Sanrio Boys’ lessons in subverting gender essentialism will be based on how much they can also tolerate being advertised to and whether they enjoy cute-guy pandering. I happen to be a Sanrio fan who likes shows starring cute guys, but it’s obviously not everyone’s specific cup of tea. I’d argue, though, that those who go in with an open mind will likely come away with something worth more than the price of admission (and some stickers and key chains).
Pros: The show is strongly in favor of people enjoying what they enjoy, gender roles be damned. If you like Sanrio, that’s an added bonus.
Cons: The second half of the series is especially filled with common tropes that stray away from some of the positive messaging in the first half.
