Doctorkev’s Thoughts on the Spring 2023 Anime Season: New Shows
Last week I wrote about this very busy Spring anime season’s sequels and ongoing shows. Now it’s the turn of the shiny new things! At the beginning of the season there were only three new shows that caught my eye, but as time progressed, and other AniTAY colleagues weighed in on their favourites, my to-watch-list has ballooned to eighteen shows (not including the nine sequels I’m watching). That’s obscene, and there’s no way I’ve time to watch all those. So far I’ve managed to watch half the new shows on the list, so let’s get to them.
Tengoku Daimakyou (Heavenly Delusion) episodes 1–7: Disney+/Hulu, Saturdays
What in Hell’s name is Disney’s anime streaming strategy? I don’t get it, I really don’t. Grabbing Bleach I can understand, that’s a guaranteed success right there. But the dark and edgy Black Rock Shooter? Then there was the extremely violent and graphic (but excellent) Summer Time Rendering that they inexplicably delayed streaming for nine months, and then shat out in one single splurt, practically in secret? And now there’s Tengoku Daimakyou, a show with a popular source manga that’s already been localised with the intriguing title Heavenly Delusion. At least Disney is simulcasting the show (with a dub!), but why not use the established English title? And why not publicise it in any way? I had to go searching in the bowels of Disney+ for this, it didn’t even show up on my recommendations despite the fact I’ve watched almost all of Disney’s scattershot anime releases so far.
I get the impression that Disney doesn’t really have much of a clue what it’s doing. There’s likely a local branch of the company in Asia that’s keen on picking up anime to bolster ratings in that region, and the Western arms of the service don’t care about the weird Japanese cartoons they’re inheriting. Why else shadow-drop multiple adult-oriented series that are completely mismatched for the Disney brand? It’s very similar to Amazon’s half-assed treatment of anime after their Anime Strike experiment miserably failed. New shows would lurch onto their platform with zero publicity and would be next-to-impossible to find, even for those users who knew the shows existed. Let’s hope some exec at Disney has an anime-obsessed kid who can give them the kick up the arse they need to recognise the value of their assets.
Anyway, that’s enough whining about faceless moronic corporations. In Heavenly Delusion, the babies don’t have faces either. Yeah, I’ll leave you to discover what that means on your own (shudder). This is a darkly fascinating post-apocalyptic journey following the teenage duo Maru and Kiruko as they travel across a ruined, dangerous Japan. Some kind of unspecified disaster befell the world fifteen years previously, and now the survivors subsist in crumbling cities and deserted countryside, scrabbling for meagre resources and fighting amongst themselves. Maru hires Kiruko as his “bodyguard” while he searches for a place called “Heaven”, and together they come up against hideous malformed monstrosities called “Man-Eaters” that Maru can inexplicably destroy with a mysterious power.
Meanwhile, in a sealed residential/hospital/experimental facility, Tokio is one of a group of mysterious children who gradually poke at the boundaries of their restricted world. It’s very unclear what the timeline of these segments are relative to Maru and Kiruko’s story, but Heavenly Delusion makes disturbing parallels apparent between the disparate halves of its story. Something is clearly wrong with the facility, and there’s real Promised Neverland and Akira vibes that heighten the atmosphere of paranoia.
A masterfully-produced and great-looking adaptation, each episode flies by as mysteries pile upon mysteries, and gradually the dark and unsettling world opens up before our ill-prepared characters. This is absolutely one of the best anime so far this year, and it conjures very similar vibes to 2012’s From the New World in terms of exploration of themes related to gender and sexuality, and also in its queasy and threatening atmosphere. Some scenes of sudden and upsetting violence are not for the faint-hearted. I give this my highest possible recommendation, and wish it had been marketed more aggressively. More anime fans need to see this fantastic show.
Skip and Loafer: episodes 1–6, Crunchyroll, Tuesdays
I knew of this show by the manga’s reputation as a delightful and insightful romcom, and I have not been disappointed by the adaptation. First off — the opening sequence has the most adorable dance sequence featuring female protagonist Mitsumi and her male friend Sosuke that puts me in a good mood whenever I see it. The whole show puts me in a good mood.
High school student Mitsumi moves to Tokyo from her rural village in order to seek her dream of entering politics, leading to fish-out-of-water comedy and life-affirming character interactions. Accidentally losing her way on the first day of school, she’s rescued by the laid-back Sosuke who shows her the way and becomes her first new friend in the city. Mitsumi is a diligent, earnest, naive and loveable high-achiever who endears herself to everyone she meets. There’s no hint of deceptiveness with Mitsumi — she’s unflinchingly honest and although she’s almost certainly a people-pleaser, she also knows what she wants and has the drive to get it. She gets knocked down, agonises about her mistakes, and gets up again. She’s achingly human, struggles with anxiety, and I think she’s wonderful.
Mitsumi’s not portrayed as particularly beautiful, she’s meant to be an unremarkable country girl whom you’d walk past on the street without noticing her. Her (relatively in anime terms) small dark eyes, dark bob-cut hair and slight figure lend her the appearance of the most average of Japanese schoolgirls, and that’s one of the things that makes her so adorably empathetic. She’s a realistically normal girl, with normal worries, normal faults, and normal motivations. That’s quite unusual for the abstracted world of high school anime. The other characters are also refreshingly realistic and don’t fall easily into lazy archetypes and tropes. I really love the gentle humour and realistic humanity of this refreshing show.
Oshi no Ko: episodes 1–5, HIDIVE, Wednesdays
Now THIS show I’ve been anticipating for months, having already read the first few manga volumes. It’s a little hard to discuss the plot without mentioning enormous spoilers, so I’ll do my best to skirt by them as this is an anime best viewed completely unspoiled. Oshi no Ko’s title is a multi-layered Japanese pun that’s difficult to translate into English, though “Children of the Idol” is a fairly literal, accurate take.
Written by Kaguya-sama: Love is War’s Aka Akasaka and illustrated by Scum’s Wish’s Mengo Yokoyari, a twisted manga-producing dream-team, Oshi no Ko dives deep into the dark side of the Japanese entertainment industry. In an unprecedented step, the first episode is 82 minutes long and adapts the entirety of the first manga volume, in order to get to the story-defining twist that marks the show as something startling and special. The remaining ten episodes are normal-length and of the four released so far, they strike a quite different tone to the opener — slower-paced, yet hypnotic and compelling.
Less comedic than Kaguya-sama and less overtly trashy than Scum’s Wish, Oshi no Ko nonetheless plays to the strengths of both its creators. Akasaka excels at witty character interaction and clever plots, while Yokoyari’s character designs are at once both alluring and unsettling. The striking motif of stars-in-their-eyes is used to communicate both artistic talent and dangerous obsession. I have to admit that I found the manga a little hard to follow later on, as the cast expanded and the plot slowed down, so I’m a year or two out of the loop as to the later twists and turns as I stopped reading. I’m looking forward to experiencing this anime adaptation, not least because the characters’ colour-coded hair will help me tell them apart, something difficult to manage in monochromatic manga!
Hell’s Paradise: episodes 1–6, Crunchyroll, Saturdays
I knew nothing of this show until dual AniTAY podcast hosts Hybridmink and Requiem both instructed me to watch it. Hell’s Paradise is an adaptation of the 2018 Shonen Jump+ manga that is already complete. Shonen Jump+ is the online sister publication of the mega-selling Shonen Jump, and tends to feature stories that skew a little older, perhaps more violent or sexually explicit. Prominent successes from the publication include the aforementioned Oshi no Ko, Spy x Family, Kaiju №8, Dandadan, Ayakashi Triangle and Chainsaw Man. Hell’s Paradise therefore has a lot to live up to!
As it’s animated by MAPPA, Hell’s Paradise obviously looks great. I just worry for the health of MAPPA’s animation staff, chained to their desks for long hours of punishing work in order to produce high quality anime after anime — this season alone they’re also producing the incredible Vinland Saga season 2, while only recently completing food-porntastic Campfire Cooking and working on Jujutsu Kaisen Season 2 plus the final episodes of Attack on Titan Final Season. MAPPA’s always been great at depicting smooth, exciting action, and Hell’s Paradise is no different.
Set in Japan’s Edo period, white-haired ninja assassin Gabimaru the Hollow (who looks like a haunted Bell Cranel from Danmachi) survives multiple gruesome attempts at execution due to his incredible ninja-honed special powers. He is instead offered a chance at a pardon and a chance to return to the arms of his loving wife by the Shogun’s executioners — he must travel to a mystical island with a group of other similarly condemned prisoners, and if he can retrieve the Elixir of Life he will be granted his freedom. The only problems are that merely one successful criminal will be pardoned, Gabimaru will be accompanied by the one executioner whose skill is sufficient to end his life, and the island is filled with horrendous monstrosities and a terrifying disease that makes living humans sprout disturbing Flowers of Death.
The central relationship between Gabimaru and his assigned executioner Sagiri is refreshingly devoid of romance, and they are both interesting, multi-faceted characters with complex inner lives and motivations. As increasingly bizarre events overtake them, they must learn to rely on one another to survive attacks from a variety of enemies both human and monstrous. It’s really just another Shonen Battle Anime, but when it’s presented in such exemplary fashion, it’s hard to fault it for being formulaic. Several compelling mysteries and interesting concepts keep the viewer engaged, as do the truly weird monster designs. I hope we get a full adaptation of the entire story.
The Dangers in My Heart: episodes 1–6, HIDIVE, Saturdays
The second of Requiem’s recent recommendations to me, amazingly this is also not awful. (Normally he recommends utter trash, so I am very surprised.) The Dangers in My Heart is an unusual high school romantic comedy that follows the deeply weird Kyotaro Ichikawa, a sullen boy with floppy hair and a miserable facial expression. He reads edgy books and fantasises about murdering people — especially gorgeous class idol Anna Yamada who it’s very clear he has one hell of a crush on. Kyotaro isn’t very adept at recognising his own emotions, nor engaging in interpersonal communication, yet he eventually embarks on a sweet friendship with Anna, who isn’t quite as normal as she initially appears.
Everything in the show is witnessed through Kotaro’s jaundiced viewpoint, and we’re privy to his excruciatingly awkward teenage boy thoughts. Anna, as a teenage girl, is a mystery to him, especially as she acts more inscrutably and unpredictably than the average girl. In particular she’s obsessed with snacks, which is surprising as she also works as a model. I’ve no idea where she’s hiding all those calories.
The Dangers in My Heart painfully skewers the self-important yet fragile psyche of the nerdy teenage boy. Anyone who has ever crushed on a fellow student who seemed vastly out of their league will both empathise and cringe with Kyotaro and his life of perpetual acute embarrassment. Despite the cringe factor, this is really a very sweet show, especially as the characters start to interact more with one another and their relationship blossoms.
Sacrificial Princess and the King of Beasts: episodes 1–4, Crunchyroll, Wednesdays
I’m somewhat on the fence with the rest of the shows I’m watching this season, including this relative latecomer that started well after most of its contemporaries, therefore it seems to have been overlooked. An adaptation of a 15-volume shojo (girls) manga, it’s superficially similar to the European Beauty and the Beast fairytale in that it centres on the relationship between a young woman and a fearsome-looking beast man. In this instance, the young woman Sariphi is raised by her step-parents as a “spare” — she was always intended to be one of the annual ritual sacrifices to the neighbouring kingdom’s Beast King. As a condition of peace between the Beast and Human nations, a young maiden is offered by the humans to the beasts to be eaten by their leader.
Sariphi seems oddly upbeat for someone whose life is about to end, and her unusual, apparently fearless behaviour endears her to the Beast King. So enamoured is he with her that instead he announces she will become his consort and eventual queen, much to the horror of his retainers. There’s a lot to take in during the first episode which races through multiple contrived plot points at a fair rate of knots. It’s impossible to take this seriously as a drama, yet it isn’t as ethereal or as childish as a fairytale. The tone is hard to pin down — while there are definitely themes of racism, prejudice, and inter-factional politicking, there are moments of jarring light-hearted comedy and cutesy characters mucking about. I also don’t really buy into the central relationship either.
The King himself has his own vaguely interesting reasons for the way he acts, but so far most of the supporting cast fall into predictable tropes — like Anubis, the King’s adviser. He’s a stereotypical snooty and inflexible royal attendant who values traditions and conservatism. Then there are the King’s various jealous female suitors, one of whom is literally and figuratively a catty rival with sharpened claws. Perhaps it will become more compelling as it progresses, but for now my interest is barely hanging on by a thread.
Insomniacs After School: episodes 1–5, HIDIVE, Mondays
I want to like this show more than I do. A companion piece of sorts to the excellent Call of the Night from a couple of seasons back, it’s a show about two teenagers who bond over their inability to sleep. Ganta and Nakami both struggle to sleep at night, and by chance both independently discover the perfect place at school to nap — the disused observatory on the school’s upper floor. Although they don’t know each other well, they learn that in each other’s close presence, they’re able to finally rest and catch some shut-eye.
Unfortunately their teachers discover their secret sleep spot and (after hilariously checking they haven’t been sneaking into the secluded observatory to have sex) insist that if they want to use the room, they must become members of the previously defunct Astronomy Club. Now they’re obliged to work for their rest time, by learning how to focus telescopes and to take time-lapse celestial photographs.
It runs the risk of becoming just another school club show, when what I really want is to learn more about the central duo’s characters, and see them interact. I don’t care about apertures and camera timings, and to be honest most of the technical stuff turns me off. The most recent episode features a wonderful scene where Ganta and Nakami sneak out of their tents during a night at their school camping trip, set their camera to capture the stars over the beach, and fall asleep together in the open air. That sort of vibe I can appreciate, so here’s hoping the rest of the season can capture it again.
Otaku Elf: episodes 1–4, HIDIVE, Fridays
A gently humorous mix of reverse-isekai, slice of life, and gastronomic exploration, Otaku Elf is… okay, I guess. Elda, the local shrine deity, is in reality an immortal elf summoned from her fantasy world over 400 years previously to Tokyo, who shuts herself into her shrine’s inner sanctum to play videogames, eat internet-ordered snacks and admire her collection of plastic figurines. Her only point of social contact is the newly-appointed miko (shrine maiden) Koito, who is the 15th generation of her family to serve Elda.
Koito is frustrated by Elda’s hikikomori ways and finds strategies to encourage her to leave her geeky cocoon, to come out of her shell, to meet people. Everyone in the neighbourhood (“the parishioners”) knows and loves Elda anyway, as she’s been an un-ageing constant in everyone’s lives for centuries, despite her reclusiveness. Elda is a fount of historical information, giving the show an almost educational air, it wouldn’t surprise me if some tourist bureau in Tokyo sponsors this production.
Anyway, it’s the kind of show where not an awful lot actually happens, and your enjoyment will depend on whether you enjoy spending time with the characters and appreciate the many sly weeby references. I don’t find it all that engaging, and I’m not sure if my patience will hold out until the end of the season.
Magical Destroyers: episodes 1–4, Crunchyroll, Thursdays
Whereas Otaku Elf features weeby references, Magical Destroyers is entirely built upon them, and it threatens from the very first moment to be far too much. Magical Destroyers is set in 2011, three years after the Japanese government inexplicably bans all otaku-related activity, empties every store of video games and other collectable paraphernalia, and imprisons anyone professing to be otaku/fanboys/fangirls in metal cages for their “protection”. No, this makes no sense. Don’t worry, I don’t think it’s meant to.
Our main character is the swirly-bespectacled “Otaku Hero” who appears to wield no special powers of his own, yet commands a ragtag band of rebel otakus, spearheaded by a trio of off-brand magical girls — Anarchy, Blue, and Pink. Anarchy acts as her name suggests, and is a red-hued bundle of energy and madness. Blue is a masochistic nymphomaniac who never heard an innuendo that didn’t arouse her. Pink inexplicably wears a gas mask at all times, communicating only using the words “gobo-gobo”, translated only by Blue. Together they battle the oppressive SSC and their emoji-faced goons.
The closest analogues I can think of to Magical Destroyers are the early works of Hiroyuki Imaishi — specifically Magical Shopping Arcade Abenobashi, Dead Leaves and Panty & Stocking with Garterbelt. It’s all scattershot irreverent humour, loose and fast-moving action, nonsensical plots and larger-than-life characters who spend a lot of time shouting or hitting one another. It’s a lot of fun, but it’s also exhausting. I probably will stick with this one, but I can see my patience wearing thin if it doesn’t introduce a bit more substance eventually.
The other shows on my radar this season include Yuri is my Job!, Mashle, A Galaxy Next Door, Why Raeliana Ended Up at the Duke’s Mansion and The Marginal Service. Although there are a few others that vaguely interest me, I doubt I’ll have time to even watch all of these. Let me know in the comments if there’s something you think I’m missing that I really shouldn’t! See you again at the end of the season!
