Playing fast and loose with fairy tales, Ookami-san to Shichinin no Nakamatachi is a surprising comedy that straddles the line between familiar and fresh, whimsically mashing up elements pluck from its contemporaries. Certainly the protagonist's hair colour and demeanour could have been lifted wholesale from Toradora, her pugilistic attitude and deviant sidekick are another matter. So it is with the rest of the cast, just when the measure of a character seems to be had, a tangential quirk is revealed turning them on their head. The strength of the show then is defying expectation and in three episodes it proves it has the legs and the occasional comedic timing to pull off its crazy take on well loved stories, but whether it will be able to maintain that for a further ten is up for debate.
though the outcome is predictable, this is definitely a case where the telling is more important than the ending
Otogi High School has its share of interesting clubs, the "bank" though is different and specialises in doing favours for people in times of need. The only catch is that person owes them a favour to be collected at a later time. So it is that Ryouko, the eponymous Ookami, and her diminutive companion Ringo become part of the bank and carry out some of the more physical jobs they have to deal with. Surrounded by other oddballs such as the cross-dressing president, a bespectacled and thoroughly bonkers scientist, and a boy with social anxiety disorder who wields a mean slingshot. Together they deal with the variety of cases that come to the attention of the bank: from a girl who doesn't want her senior in the tennis club to leave to someone who wants desperately to win the school's beauty pageant; regardless of the problem, Ryouko often needs to brandish her iconic cat-shaped boxing gloves to achieve a solution.
Amagami SS parades hollow, vacuous simpletons around in a grotesque approximation of a romance plot; cretins drawn with all the grace of a gorilla with a crayon shoved up its nose, splattered wholesale into a story that is as if the plot of a romance novel were faxed to the writers but was horribly smeared and distorted in the process, leaving just a grim and disfigured estimate as to what was intended. These are not even characters but amalgamations of the most tired, staid and all-round tedious aspects of archetypes that have mutated into a hideous, cringeworthy diorama of what sociopaths believe realistic or dramatically engaging human interaction is. There is no merciful release from these mannequins pretending to be people, only the grim realisation that there are twenty four episodes of uninspired, stupidity inducing drivel to come.
delights in emasculating her sycophantic barely-male toy that one day latched onto her like an unwelcome parasite
The plot as it stands concerns Junichi who after being slighted by an as yet nameless girl doesn't take the honourable and budget saving route of giving himself over to a psychiatric ward and instead constructs a pithy home made planetarium in his cupboard out of marker pen and tears of rejection. Through the abject failure of natural selection, the doddering halfwits he associates himself with haven't murdered him out of boredom or compassion and continue to potter about their own superficial lives. His hormones eventually determine he should pursue a girl one year his senior but whose mind is the colour of bitumen and has all the personality of a long deceased lemming. While he kowtows to her every whimsical desire, humiliating himself in front of his sole male acquaintance in the process, she remains fickle and obtuse and, with any luck, is plotting a gory end to his pathetic existence.
You'd be forgiven for recalling Aerosmith's "Dude Looks Like a Lady" in the opening credits of the voluminously titled Uragiri wa Boku no Namae wo Shitteiru; not for the song's namesake but because were it not for the obvious breasts, the lady would certainly resemble a gentleman. This is not surprising with an art style that revels in the androgynous, emblematic of a genre commonly characterised by male homosexual romances. Nothing in the opening episodes attempts to dispel this association, in many ways it revels in it with the liberal use of tropes that are keen to imply rather than extol. Despite the genre trappings however, the opening episodes are a muted but disappointing introduction to a series which while not widely accessible, plays to its strengths despite the ultimately derivative result of doing so.
women who are attentive, graceful and the only bright lights in a world populated by frowns and stoic metrosexual manliness
Yuki is an orphan, found abandoned in a hedge with only his name affixed to him, growing up feeling that he was unwanted by his parents. It doesn't help that he has the ability to see people's pasts and emotions with only a touch, making him increasingly isolated despite his looks earning him scores of adoring fans. Yuki's life is shaken up when his supposed half-brother makes an appearance and his ability to read other's emotions spins into overdrive, manifesting the unfortunate ability to shatter all glass around him. The sibling, Takashiro, seems to be involved was mysterious silver-eyed man, Zess, who saves Yuki when a classmate takes a deadly interest in him. Yuki's ability may yet come to have some greater significance and his life shows no indication of settling back down.
A concept such as a brother's romantic entanglement with his two, admittedly non-blood related, sisters does not seem like one suited to crippling mediocrity - but Kiss×Sis, by some monumental feat, manages exactly that. The odd family arrangement mirrors that of the series which spans multiple media including an OVA released with the ongoing manga. This saturation of different versions is utter overkill for a bland story and weak characters but compounded here in the TV offering by minimal naughtiness and a wholly uninspiring production of stilted animation and insipid music. The positives are rare but include how peculiarly inventive the narrative is in placing the sisters in situations ripe for corrupting their brother, as well as portraying the two perverse, red-haired seductresses' intentions as naive and almost pure. Those pluses however are eclipsed by the multitude of negatives which only reinforce the fact that this was a stillborn idea before it was ever committed to paper or animation.
makes light of situation which is socially and morally bankrupt in order to legitimise a deviant fetish
Keita is his father's son, unfortunately for him his sisters are his stepmother's daughters and while a blended family isn't abnormal, his sisters' vocal affection for him is. They are intent on helping him get into their high school which involves some rather unique methods of tutoring, however both Ako and Riko vie for Keita's affections which spills out into a continual struggle for supremacy. This usually ends up with Keita in the middle attempting to unsuccessfully mediate or otherwise remove himself from the squabble. Although at first disparaging of their romantic feelings, he begins to feel something for them as well, and being all under the same roof it may not be long before something extra curricular happens.
Watching Yojouhan Shinwa Taikei is like watching a very complex engine; there's the constant thrum as it operates - provided here by Shintaro Asanuma's staccato voice - the complex mechanisms all operating together in order to drive... something. In the first three episodes the series doesn't reveal what it is attempting to convey or even how it intends to fill the remainder of its eleven episode run, there is only the core situation, continuously augmented, with the nameless protagonist at the centre. Bolstering this Groundhog Day-esque scenario is an impossibly trendy production from Madhouse that sports a gung-ho, raucous animation style and an opening backed by Asian Kung-fu Generation. There is an infectious, breathless enthusiasm to the opening episodes but whether this will be maintained and the final twist worthwhile, will make or break the series.
Sly nods to popular culture reinforce its underlying attacks on community, creativity and personal fulfilment
The opening days of a university education are filled with promise, especially the decision on which club to join to best spend time in between lectures. The protagonist opts first for the tennis club but discovers too late the skills required to make friends and, crucially, woo partners of the opposite sex. Instead he throws his lot in with Ozu, a snide and vindictive young man with a face only a mother could love and a penchant for causing brainless mischief wherever he goes. Complicating this mix is Akashi, a cantankerous and forthright girl who seems to take a special interest in the protagonist, much to his delight. When his tennis club adventures end with him being thrown into a raging river, time reverses and he is given another chance at a club, this time choosing the film club. Events end badly once again, as too does the cycling circle; it seems that the protagonist is tied to Ozu with the "black thread of fate", or perhaps the local deity or suspect fortune teller have something to do with his continuing mishaps.
