Scalpelexis

There was already something like this last year from a related corner of the cinematic world: Alice in Borderland. Identical idea, the same decent drive, which over time starts to descend into cluelessness and predictability and ends with a pathetic punchline about the strength of gelatin. Asian productions love to push the emotion a level higher than appropriate, but likewise the genre fails to keep fingers crossed for many characters, so it's ultimately just a flashy swing of a leaky bat. The police storyline contains a ton of illogicality and the VIP charade was painful to the eyes, ears, and brain. Credit must be given to the extremely strong 6th episode, which features the best of the rules of the game, emotions, and exploration of the various aspects of human behavior, morality, and a bit of ethics. Overall a better average. After this experience, despite the pointlessly open-ended ending, I don't see how Season 2 can be better.

If Mr. Shitan hadn't been unnecessarily blathering for half the episode, it's actually a pleasantly emotional episode. Even so, for the first time since the opening episodes, I was decently blown away.

I felt like a disappointed and dumb Amidala when the kid checking the lightsaber said that it was just a microphone and my smile started to fade anticlimactically: "But it is a lightsaber, isn't it? It is a lightsaber, isn't it?!"

When two people do the same thing, it's not the same thing. I don't mind at all the idea of putting SW in the hands of Nippon animators, as I wholeheartedly root for both worlds, but it's not exactly fortunate to give it away to 7 different studios with unbalanced reputations and philosophies. Some have embraced the glimpse into a world in a galaxy far, far away with the appropriate respect and noble task of creating a worthy allegory, some would just make a joke of it, which the brand doesn't deserve, right Science SARU (and they have 2 freaking episodes?)? The imbalance is softened by the short running time, good ideas here and there, but a lot of the barely one-minute fights that suit Star Wars like sand does Anakin. I was pleased with The Duel (the raw black and white artwork perfectly addresses the Japanese comedy), Lop and Ochō (no, I don't buy the furry world, but the connection to family values and the best duel of the series, I'll take it! ), The Ninth Jedi (typical Star Wars with all the trimmings), and especially the beautifully atmospheric The Village Bride (excellent audiovisual accompanied by Penkin's music, with a nice dose of emotion, humanity, Jedi aura and their measured attitude). Lots of parts would deserve a continuation, most of them can gladly go to the incinerator, a few entertained me greatly, but all in all it's a mediocre one-shot for a rainy morning.

Grandpa Vesemir is good with me. I went with a share of skepticism into this episode that otherwise touches on subject matter so dear to me, and came away unexpectedly satisfied. I can't help but think the film did a solid job of incorporating all the familiar typical elements of Sapkowski's work: cynicism, sarcasm, racial politics, a streak of machismo and arrogance, cool detachment/feel, and a subliminally hidden (in)sensibility. Vesemir's demeanor as a braggadocious, aimlessly wandering mercenary for the dirtiest of unglamorous jobs fit right into my personal little box of the profession of the renegade spellcaster, and his gradual epiphany made sense to me. I also liked the winking cameos or plot inserts from other stories; the connectivity was surprisingly present. And since the action and animation didn't disappoint, the only big shame is the absence of the excellent OST from the 3rd computer game. I'll toss a coin to this witcher!

I've had my eye on Kokoro Connect for a long time. I kept catching myself tapping a bare toe against the table leg when reviewing thematically similar anime. I don't exactly put much faith in SILVER LINK's output. (Suffice it to say, for more familiar viewers, the most popular meme from their catalog is: "No, senpai, this is our fight!"), and I don't remember them adapting anything besides Non Non Biyori that has even a piece of the proverbial head to toe (at least an ear and a stubbed little toe; they should still be on the hook for Fate/Kaleid for years to come). That is, except for Kokoro. And what else, bodyswap is a great idea and can be played a number of different ways. I enjoyed a lot the opening 5 or so episodes, when the characters have to come to terms with the phenomenon, leading to some resigned and honest confessions from the corners of teenage souls, so much so that I even burst out laughing at the original and cheeky erotic confession. The series mixes initial lightness and good dissection of the plot; the characters aren't excellent, but they're by no means bad either (Inaba is a drag with a capital D), and their development is endearingly suited to that 5th episode, which also wraps things up subtly in an emotional mini-finale. But what next? 8 more episodes to go. If I wanted a steep slide, I'd go to the aquapark, but now it's come at a terrifyingly inopportune time. The writers thought they'd set up a repeat through their mouthpiece's cheap justification: "Because you just entertain me", they roll out a new repetitive but more heavyweight Bollywood melodrama and the triangle squeaks deafeningly. Oddly, the outside world takes no interest in what’s happening to our five ("If you tell anyone, it’s a big nono!"), the five aim monstrous elephant guns at their flyweight problems, and the denouement was about as satisfying as a hawaii pizza on my birthday. The puppetry fizzled, the massive potential was tossed in the trash, and my Kokoro remained disconnected. The whole thing then creates the sad impression that the initial, sweetly revealing depth of characters was false, because when we get to the crux of the matter, there's a relative scripted void. This theme could have been milked for a few extra buckets of classy ideas, and this way Kokoro Connect remains only a slightly above average, unresolved, and unsatisfying romance that Gandalf would have accused as having traded reason for madness halfway through. A better 3 stars

As always, I have conflicting feelings about the straightforward Aria, which mix together about as successfully as mercury and water. On the plus side, it has a supremely powerful relaxing effect with an up to a 99% soporific success rate, it focuses heavily on documentary-like, almost intoxicating scenery of the city and its surroundings, fans of the letter A will be delighted (only the biker Woody oddly stands out, and not just because of his hairstyle), and the endless goodness of the people here makes the purpose of police and jail meaningless. I don't mind that the universal evil will be most allergic to this ripoff of Venice, but on the negative side, the same allergy applies to the depth of the characters, the humor, and the plot (whereas the 3rd season, Origination, was a pleasant surprise and for that reason alone is by far the best in my eyes). Anyway, anyone who ever gets to see this film must have been through the original series and therefore these aspects can't surprise them in any way and the viewer knows what they're getting into. Even so, it's quite unfortunate that the main "stumbling brick" (I'm not going to use the tired "stumbling block", because that would actually be excessive for describing Aria's problems) is almost identical to the one in Avvenire, namely the friends finding their way back to each other after not even a misunderstanding, but just because of a strange and banal disparity of feelings that could never cause any kind of disagreement anyway. Normally, I would forgive Aria any reason to take a scenic ride on the gondolas again, gaze at the quite charming streets of Neo-Venezia (and at the same time not to have to see the prudish President Aria or to avoid the altogether hollow caricatures), but please don't make the girls bigger drones in such an unpleasant and already repeated way. The proof of this mediocrity is ultimately in the fact that the flashback from Origination, which I love and know so well, was the part I enjoyed the most. For sure J.C. Staff managed to dust off the visuals and take it up a notch in quality, though even by the end they were losing their grip on it and the character of clumsy Athena started to get proper and uncharacteristic fan service in there, but that can be forgiven for the minutes that had come before in terms of aesthetics. Overall, though, I was sadly unconvinced by Crepuscolo (not much of a title, eh?), leaving the letter "e" in the title quivering lest it be replaced in full irony by the much-loved "a" so beloved by Aria, and in the final reckoning, this episode definitely bored me rather than pleasantly rocking me. A weak 3 stars.

[Season 1] In all honesty, I didn't ever expect to experience such a blow to my heart in anime, but I'm all the more glad I did. With its atypical concept, Spice and Wolf is an unpolished gem in the field of Japanese animation, as we get a truly delightfully colorful main duo who are very hard to match with their complex characters. In particular, the vapid, clingy, slightly alcoholic Holo carries the series on her shoulders with ice-cold confidence, and incredible though it is for me to say it, her characteristics and demeanor are beautifully human. Her relationship with Lawrence is endlessly endearing; unfortunately, the character of Lawrence himself is a little more hollow than warranted, which is a shame, because such potential would be hard for another couple to match. As I mentioned at the beginning about the atypicality of the series, it lies in the "flow" and the main theme. Sure, the relationship of the main protagonists drives the plot, but that facade is formed by business and economics, which with the very lazy and slow pace of the plot can make this anime unpleasantly boring for the audience. There's a suspenseful moment here and there, but otherwise the slower, narratively somewhat lighter flow of the plot suited me like a bum in the pot. I left the first series with a really nice feeling.

The height of cluelessness. Some clever individual thought they'd write a story about an adolescent runaway rescued by a saint from the local software company (which is fine, and frankly I not only find the subject matter relatively intriguing, but it could also work in both dramatic and comedic directions), but then they stuck a dusty, typically LN title on it as a warning right away to hopefully lower expectations to the very bottom. And surprisingly those first episodes were decent; I even take that controversial 3rd episode as a strong last stand for the slowly sinking and hitherto warped character of Sayu. At that point, you could still sort of forgive the lustful camera, which was disingenuously looking for angles to peek at the ladies' cleavage or around the edges of their skirts/underwear with the intention of exaggerating the sexual subtext of the story. Then no longer, because the plot dropped through the floors of the idea-ridden basement more abruptly than a loose elevator and began drowning in a swamp of fluff, all to the accompaniment of an astrophysically unnecessary and annoying panopticon of supporting characters: the desperate lovestruck cinephile, miss "virginal buxom tease", and that know-it-all meddlesome work colleague who gossips and offers unsolicited advice like a character from Babovresky. The seconds ticked by about as briskly as the hours on a broken clock and Higehiro stalled for the gold in order to stretch the totally predictable finale into 3 episodes about how to successfully beat up a desk, have juice, and practice almighty slow-motion situps. The feeling of suffering and awkwardness was ubiquitous, the catharsis inappropriate, and the mission outlined initially disappeared before it could introduce even the minimum. While I liked the female seduction-resistant Yoshida and the confused Sayu quite a bit, their campaign was woefully underdeveloped relative to its opening potential. They didn't win here, and neither did the audience.

Audiovisually a nicely staged piece, I have no problem lumping it into the category of the more successful romances based on their choice of ingredients and spices. Love comes in many forms: it can run up to you, walk up to you, and sometimes even ride a wheelchair. The characteristically quite different duo under the main spotlight are very nicely connected by the "sea" storyline and I like the incorporated symbolism with the world famous fairytale character, The Little Mermaid, who can't walk on land; and if she does, she’ll never escape again. The tactfully and sensitively constructed relationship between Josee and Tsuneo contains classics like mini-escapades, more poignant discoveries about each other, complemented by mischievous jokes about the girl's tsundere character, and through an artfully precise dose of these compositions the first half of the film flows like water. And then, to the "ouch!": we start bolting things together, violently, screechingly, sparks flying with filings, and the plot struggles to generate any natural tension or meaningful challenge without a helpful deus ex machina coming to the rescue. The story kicks a thus far insignificant minor character into stupidly and pointlessly fomenting a conflict, which results in a domino effect that strikes the IQs of nearly everyone so that they also begin start going incomprehensibly bonkers. The point of the fairy tale told was destined, certain, the character went for it, only to bungle it again upon achieving success and thereby fumbling through a final carousel now with dripping clichés and unwelcome coincidences. The sighs start bubbling up to the surface on their own: was that necessary? Even despite the rather satisfying conclusion, the answer is "no". It made me squint my eyes as I watched the closing credits, because although the technically stumbling ending spoiled the impression, the charming scenes in the opening half and the fine lead characters outweighed the overall feelings into positive numbers. I almost, almost, almost gave it three stars, but I just couldn't, so it's a very, very weak four.