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brucebocchi · 4 months

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Ranking every new anime I watched in 2023, Pt. 4: #5-1

hey, i just started a ko-fi for my writing and possible other creative outlets. this post will also be available there, so please check it out and consider tipping/donating as i'm currently between jobs. the tumblr version of part 1 can be found here, part 2 here, and part 3 here.

The list is complete! This took a lot of work but I'm over the moon to get this out there. Please consider leaving a tip if you've enjoyed reading.

Here goes, my top five anime of 2023:

5. Zom 100: Bucket List of the Dead

Zom 100’s debut hit like a freight train, especially coming from a brand new studio. It had everything: Visceral satire of Japanese work culture, incredible animation, vibrant colors in unexpected places, clever cinematography, wish fulfillment for everyone who’s ever wanted to Stone Cold their boss, and most importantly: Zombie titties.

The premise is magnetic: When your job makes you feel like a zombie, an actual zombie apocalypse means certain freedom from the grind. Akira Tendo realizes that he can finally use the vacation time he amassed while being exploited and overworked at a legally dodgy black company, so he writes a bucket list of everything he’s ever wanted to do, with all intention of checking off every single line item before succumbing to a zombie bite. He manages to rescue his hunky fuckboy bestie from college, and they embark on a road trip across Japan to finish out the list, along with a beautiful, risk-averse tsundere and a big-tiddy German weeb.

It's a perfectly fine elevator pitch, and a welcome break from the guns-and-grit quagmire the zombie genre has been stuck in for the past two decades, but what makes any good zombie-flecked media resonate is the human element, which Zom 100 delivers expertly. You’re quickly given reason to care for all the characters, their motivations are clear and relatable, and you want to see them survive and live out their dreams. But more importantly, you just want to hang out with them through their hijinks. It even delves into more serious matters, like what we owe our parents as adults, the ways isolation and bitterness can drive people to act out in their worst moments, and even the factors that push abuse victims to stay with and even return to their abusers.

Above all, though, it’s a powerful (if extreme) story of finding joy in the direst circumstances. Akira, Kencho, and Shizuka are all kindhearted, well-meaning people whose situations kept them from what they truly wanted to do with their lives, and there’s something kinda beautiful to be found in them finding a new opportunity during the possible end of the world (Beatrix is a sweetie too, but aside from the whole zombie thing, she’s already exactly where she wants to be). The final arc of the season, in particular, looks you dead in the eye and asks you: If you were suddenly faced with the ultimate freedom, would you use the opportunity to better yourself, improve the lives of others, or do whatever the fuck you want at everyone else’s expense? You may not like the answer at first if you’re honest with yourself, and that’s okay. The world isn’t over, and there’s still time for you to be your best self.

Zom 100, unfortunately, fell prey to a cruel irony in the form of production issues. Bug Films is a new studio made up of a former team from OLM that was responsible for similarly gorgeous projects such as Komi Can’t Communicate and Summer Time Rendering. They clearly saw so much of themselves in Akira's workplace exploitation that they had to swing for the fences here. The firm he works for is named “ZLM” in this adaptation, for fuck’s sake, and he fully destroys his zombie boss in the first episode. But new studio or old, the anime industry is a grind, and Bug had trouble keeping up; animation quality did take a bit of a dip after the stunning first episode, and episodes were frequently delayed as the summer broadcast season wore on and ended without the entire seasonal run making airwaves. Hell, it was impossible to watch the final three episodes until just a few days before I could write this sentence.

For what Bug were able to pull off, though, Zom 100 is outstanding. The paintball-colored blood splatters everywhere are an instantly-iconic look that strike the balance between horror and spectacle. Everything and everyone looks gorgeously faithful to Kotaro Takata’s art, and delivers an appropriately cinematic look that the manga always deserved. I almost don’t know what else to tell you but that this show is a fucking blast.

There’s also a zombie shark. What more could you want?

4. Oshi no Ko

I spent a good chunk of 2023 just assuming Oshi no Ko was going to be a layup for anime of the year. Shortly after moving on from Kaguya-sama, I rushed to binge Aka Akasaka's subsequent manga in time for the anime's feature-length debut. I was taken in by OnK's bonkers premise and sudden dark turn and quickly fell in love with the characters, and my anticipation only grew. I had high expectations for the screen adaptation, but nothing could have prepared me for just how lovingly it all came together. This is as close to a perfect adaptation as you can find, and the same can be said about both the preceding and following entries on this list.

Oshi no Ko is an audiovisual feast. Doga Kobo cleaned up Mengo Yokoyari’s character designs just a smidge, but put just the right flourishes on them to make every single cast member instantly iconic. One look at Kana Arima’s eyes will tell you everything you need to know about the level of care put into the visual design of this anime. The performances are on point as well; though many of the main cast members are relative newcomers to the world of seiyuu, you can tell they truly came to understand the characters before they even recorded one line. I’ve already gushed about Rie Takahashi in earlier entries, but her turn as Ai Hoshino is easily one of the best voice performances all year. Takahashi makes a meal out of every single second Ai spends on screen and gives you every reason to care about her as a character.

Showbiz manga in general is obviously missing an audio element, and when an adaptation can expand on that aspect well, it can help turn even middling source material into something transcendent (see also: Rock!, Bocchi the). Music is central to Oshi no Ko, and the OP/ED combination is already iconic; YOASOBI’s “Idol” has had the best worldwide chart performance of any Japanese song ever, and the prolonged intro to Queen Bee’s “Mephisto” became a meme in Japan in the same vein as JJBA’s iconic use of “Roundabout.” Rather than taking manga characters’ word for it that someone is a terrible actor, we actually get to cringe along to an amateur actor’s hammy emoting. We get to see and hear what turned a fictional idol group into a national phenomenon rather than just see cute girls posing on the page. All of this is to say that while Oshi no Ko is an excellent manga, it needed a screen adaptation, and especially one of this quality.

Oshi no Ko deserves every shred of its success. I've never seen an anime make a splash this enormous with just its debut episode, even if it’s kind of cheating to say so because the first episode is almost literally a movie, and if I were to give an award for the best single episode of anime this year, it would be that one, hands down. Adapting the entire first volume into a feature-length debut was the correct move (mostly because it’s a tonal rollercoaster, and the Big Event that defines the entire story wouldn’t have happened until the fourth episode otherwise), and the investment paid dividends. The hype naturally died down a bit as the season wore on and settled into a more consistent tone and rhythm, but it remains an essential anime to 2023.

You may have noticed that I have said very little of what this show is actually about, and that’s by design: If you still don’t know the plot of Oshi no Ko’s first episode by now, I refuse to tell you: you need to go in blind. All I will say is that it is an idol anime that glorifies nothing. If you've read this far and still trust what I have to say about anime, I beg you to just take my word for it. It's an incredibly rewarding experience.

3. Scott Pilgrim Takes Off

There's just something so wonderful about taking in an adaptation of a work you’re already familiar with and knowing, almost instantaneously, that every single person working on it genuinely loved the source material and relished the opportunity to bring it to life. Nearly every single member of the original cast is in the dub (including the ones who went on to be MCU mainstays), Edgar Wright is back on as executive producer, Anamanaguchi reprise their soundtracking duties from the video game, and even Bryan Lee O’Malley himself helped co-write everything.

That last detail is probably the most important thing about this entire production: It’s not exactly a secret that the original Scott Pilgrim comics are very imperfect portrayals of a very imperfect young man. I knew reading them at the time that the comic did not have a great grasp on relationships and the dynamics between men and women, and that was at a time in my life when I myself was pretty terrible with and to women. O'Malley has said that he would only revisit Scott Pilgrim if it was “the right thing” and that he was leery of a straight retelling of a work he has since outgrown.

So instead, we have the Rebuild of Scott Pilgrim, to put it simply. Takes Off is a completely new story that reexamines the Scott Pilgrim comics, movie, and even game without undermining what came before it. This series is not a repudiation of Scott Pilgrim (the character or the franchise)’s flaws, nor is it purely fanservice; it splits the difference perfectly. It’s both more mature and completely self-indulgent. This show so easily could’ve marched to the familiar discourse drumbeat of “Scott isn’t the hero here” or “he’s actually not a good dude,” but it instead focuses on what should always be the second half of that sentence: “But Ramona still sees something in him.”

Yes, Ramona Flowers is effectively the protagonist of a new work that doesn’t even have her name on it, and it tackles some surprisingly necessary questions: What was her responsibility in creating seven evil exes in the first place? What made them evil? Are they even that evil? This series opens up entire worlds of possibilities within the extended cast and gleefully dives into them. Though Takes Off may not flesh out every single character, it does take its time with several of the ones who really did need a little more meat on their narrative bones, and even gives some characters new roles just because it would be fun to see them in new situations.

I still cannot believe they got Science Saru to make this show. “They made a Scott Pilgrim anime” and “They brought back the movie cast” are already good enough fodder for that Vince McMahon meme, but “It’s produced by the motherfuckers who made Devilman Crybaby” had me falling out of my chair. The animation maintains O'Malley's chunky, cartoony character designs and works wonders with line weights and simulated camera effects to give everything a tactile, weighty feel, like it’s somehow (and very appropriately) splitting the difference between a comic, a film, and even a video game. There’s a wide array of visual effects that helps to place all of Scott Pilgrim’s influences further on its sleeve: Dynamic action scenes, camera depth and chromatic aberration, and our beloved pixel art inserts. It looks like every Scott Pilgrim, everywhere, all at once.

The live action film’s cast did a (mostly) great job reprising their roles for animation, and there are some wildly unexpected cameos in there. Voice acting is not quite the same as stage or film acting, but everyone pulls their weight, and dialogue feels far more naturalistic than your average anime dub. Mary Elizabeth Winstead, Ellen Wong and, surprisingly, Chris Evans are outstanding in their respective roles. I’m gonna have to watch this again in Japanese, though. Fairouz Ai as Ramona, Aoi Koga as Knives, and Yuichi Nakamura as Lucas Lee? Sign me the fuck up.

This is not an apology or revision of Scott Pilgrim the character or work, it is a celebration that still acknowledges and improves on the flaws. If you’re a Scott Pilgrim fan who’d been clamoring for a proper cartoon adaptation, Takes Off may not exactly be what you’ve wanted, but it may be what you needed. Chances are pretty good that you’ve grown since the first time since you read, watched, or even played something with Scott Pilgrim’s name on it, and it’s a blessing to say that while the character may not have grown, Scott Pilgrim the franchise finally has.

2. Jujutsu Kaisen, season 2

I’m so glad I picked up JJK this year, if only because I would’ve otherwise been caught in a mudslide of memes I didn’t understand.

Season 2 follows in lockstep with the manga from where season 1 left off, beginning in extended flashback with the Hidden Inventory/Premature Death arc, covering Satoru Gojo and Suguru Geto’s high school life and the events that would eventually create the rift between them that came to shape Jujutsu Kaisen’s story. We see very different versions of Gojo and Geto here, much younger and more naive, but only marginally less powerful as they’re sent on an escort mission with the future of the jujutsu world in the balance. Because this is Jujutsu Kaisen, and because Jujutsu Kaisen is for masochists, nothing happens as planned.

We unfortunately do not get the precious slice-of-life hijinks the OP suggests, but if you watched season 1, you should know better by now than to trust an OP. While the initial arc does have its quieter and goofier moments (and some delicious homoerotic subtext), it wastes little time in declaring that this is a new version of the Jujutsu Kaisen anime: Lines are thinner, character models are looser, and action is buckwild. Two of the best fakeouts in the series happen in the span of five minutes. Those unfamiliar with the source material may have wondered for a bit why there needed to be a five-episode prequel arc to start the season, but the pieces would soon fall into place.

And then came Shibuya.

The Shibuya Incident arc was what made Jujutsu Kaisen a must-read in every new issue of Shonen Jump. It reset the status quo for the story and shaped it into something far beyond another “teenagers with special powers go to a school for teenagers with special powers” battle shonen. Needless to say, the hype for its anime adaptation was astronomical.

The Shibuya arc sets the stakes early: Nobody is safe and there may be no happy ending. Triumph is short-lived, and every threat is existential. Everyone who has been in the series up to this point plays a role, and you’re not going to like a lot of what’s needed of them. This arc punches you in the gut, repeatedly, and in between each blow is some of the most intense and innovative action you’ve ever seen. It will hurt, and you will beg for more.

I liked this arc a good amount in the manga, but by the end I was ready for it to be over. I didn’t get the hype around Toji, thought the deaths were cheap, and was so. FUCKING. sick of Mahito. Seeing it in fluid motion onscreen, though, everything just clicked for me and I couldn’t get enough. I fully get now why the girlies have been wetting themselves over Toji; the character modelers were HORNY horny this season. I see now how even the most unceremonious deaths fit into the narrative, or at least one will make perfect sense to me once Gege Akutami and I have a little chat :). And holy hell do I understand now that Mahito is one of the best shonen villains in the history of the medium, that sick bastard. Season 2 was my Rosetta stone for Jujutsu Kaisen; I see it all now. My sixth eye has been opened. Throughout heaven and earth, I alone am the literate one.

JJK’s second season has a markedly different feel from the first from a presentation standpoint, and I feel it’s for the better. Every aspect of the presentation is on point, and I want to call attention to the audio element: The production music, with a heavy focus on jazz piano, is wonderfully unique for the genre, and the voice acting remains top notch. These are banner performances from the likes of Yuichi Nakamura, Kenjiro Tsuda, Takahiro Sakurai, Asami Seto, and Nobunaga Shimazaki, but the performance that defines the Shibuya arc (and by extension the entire season) is Junya Enoki as Yuji Itadori.

Enoki’s been great this year in lead roles in goofy works like KamiKatsu and Girlfriend Girlfriend (not to mention minor roles in Skip and Loafer and the vending machine isekai), so it’s no surprise that he continues to crush it as JJK’s protagonist; Yuji Itadori is a goofy dude. But the Shibuya arc, for as much ground and as many characters as it covers, is ultimately Yuji’s story as he is forced, time and again, to endure the cycle of the “suffering builds character” meme. His peers and mentors in the first season told him repeatedly that the life of a jujutsu sorcerer is a short and unhappy one, and he now has to shoulder that burden for everyone. Enoki nails every single part of a wide spectrum of emotions Yuji is forced to endure over the course of the Shibuya arc, be it determination, naive confusion, or just pure unbridled trauma. If this isn’t the best voice performance of the year, it’s top five at worst.

Like every major battle shonen release in the age of social media, this season has had its detractors. Reviewers at Anime News Network kinda hated the story, but that’s something you take up with Gege Akutami (and get in line behind the manga readers). I've seen people complain about the animation. Which, like. If you don’t like the new visual style, sure, fine, that’s up to personal taste. But if you think this season isn’t well-animated, you just plain don’t know ball. It may not have a cohesive look, but that was the draw for me: Season 1 was good, but at times I felt like it looked a little too rigid, a little too shiny, a little too samey. Season 2, especially the Shibuya arc, looks like everything. Sometimes it looks like an action film, sometimes it looks like Mob Psycho 100, and at points it looks, most crucially, like Akutami’s most iconic panels brought to life, stroke for stroke.

The varying styles weren’t an accident: Nearly each episode had its own director, and those resumes cover top-tier animations like Mob Psycho, Devilman Crybaby, Kill la Kill, Heavenly Delusion, Oshi no Ko, FLCL, even Akira and goddamn Golden Boy. While the episodes don’t look entirely consistent from one to the next, the variance is less jarring and more “holy fuck, what am I going to see next?”. The looser style of animation is what Jujutsu Kaisen always needed; Akutami’s art is very loose and dynamic, and his action panels are borderline inscrutable at times. Season 2 nails the feel of JJK to a degree that its adaptation always needed and lets its directors, storyboarders, and animators run wild. At times, characters will look like they leapt right off the page; others, they will look like something you have never seen before in your life.

It is unfortunately impossible to talk about this season without also bringing up MAPPA’s working conditions, and how animators were frequently overworked against nigh-impossible deadlines. It was an open secret last year as Chainsaw Man aired that MAPPA’s animation schedule was a meat grinder, but that came bubbling to the surface quickly as JJK’s second season aired. Word got out midseason that MAPPA had its animators sign NDAs about their work conditions, but complaints still broke containment and several staffers took to social media to apologize for their work looking incomplete, and some even publicly announced that they are leaving the studio. It is stunning that the finished product looks the way it does under such conditions, and I respect the animators for putting in such incredible work, but something has to give. Several major series suffered from major delays this year, some of which I gave significant praise, but MAPPA is lucky that all of JJK came out on time. I wish I knew what could push them to treat their workers with the dignity and respect (and pay) they deserve, but that’s a conversation that covers much wider ground than just anime.

MAPPA has already announced that the series will continue through the next major arc. While there is quite a bit of it that I would love to see on screen, I can only hope that the animators get to rest. For now, though, we can be proud of what they made under duress, even if some will forever wonder what it would look like if the staff were treated like something a notch above cattle.

1. Frieren: Beyond Journey's End

Fucking hell. This is why I watch anime.

I was curious about this one because a couple major anitubers I watch had reviewed the manga and were effusive in their praise. I knew the anime adaptation was on the way, so I decided to hold off on reading and see what the anime would be like, and with Keiichiro Saito (director of Bocchi the Rock! and key animator for Oshi no Ko’s instantly-iconic OP) at the helm, my excitement was piqued. That guy turned a B-minus 4-koma into an innovative hit comedy, so what can he do with a beloved source material and the backing of a legacy studio like Madhouse?

I've had so much to say about Frieren since the premiere, and I still have so much to say now, but to talk about what I love about this show is to talk about everything about this show. When the first four episodes dropped, I described it as “Mushoku Tensei without the baggage,” and I stand by that. There were multiple points throughout Frieren’s first cour where I'd nearly forgotten that I wasn't watching Mushoku Tensei. Every single element is on point: The animation is fluid and expressive, backdrops are consistently gorgeous, voice performances are quickly memorable, and the music is evocative and instantly iconic. This is, plainly, one of the most beautiful pieces of television I have ever seen on nearly every level, be it visually, sonically, or thematically.

The initial four-episode debut was a masterclass in establishing the setting, building emotional investment into the characters, and slowly but deliberately laying out the premise of the season to come. The titular Frieren is an elf mage who, for a very brief decade of her millennium-long life, lent her skills to an adventuring party to slay the Demon King. Though she helped save the world, she was never one for stuff like adulation or socializing, so she breaks away from the group to continue her hobby of collecting various spells and arcana. She regroups with them after 50 years, having kept in contact with none of them, only to find them older and frailer. The party’s leader, the hero Himmel, passes away shortly thereafter, and Frieren breaks down at his funeral, having realized exactly too late how important he was to her and that she’d never really bothered to get to know him as a person.

Some time later, she’s called by the surviving human member of the party, Heiter, under the guise of translating an old text, but soon realizes that he duped her into helping train the young orphan girl he adopted, Fern, as a mage. Upon Heiter’s death, Frieren and Fern head out together, carrying out odd jobs and retracing Frieren’s steps from the journey that changed her more than she realized. They soon learn from the other surviving member of the party, Eisen, that (ooh) heaven is, in fact, a place on earth, and that Frieren may be able to properly pay Himmel his final respects in person. In order to do so, they must make a trip to the north, past the Demon King’s castle. The story of Beyond Journey’s End is, quite literally, a nostalgia trip.

Frieren's story is one of grief and regret, but also how we can use those emotions as a way of moving forward rather than looking backward. Her history is a long one and her memories seemingly everlasting, but she uses them to pave the road ahead of her rather than let them shackle her to the past. This is best exemplified by Fern herself, as well as the other companion they pick up the way in Eisen’s former trainee, Stark. Frieren can carry on the legacies of Heiter and Eisen by helping their young wards grow into the capable young adults they’re meant to be, while Himmel’s legacy lives on in the memories of the towns and villages he helped save along Frieren’s new path, and most importantly, in Frieren herself.

The degree to which Himmel truly mattered to Frieren becomes more apparent to her as the story goes on, and it becomes more evident in her actions. Himmel was a gentle, selfless (if self-aggrandizing) man who was every last bit the hero the modern world believes him to be. With every statue of him she cleans, every flower she plants in his name, every core memory that returns to her, we are watching Frieren become more and more like him in real time. You would expect a thousand-year-old woman to be pretty set in her ways, but we see her holding off on old, bad behaviors because of how Himmel would react to them back then. As Fern and Stark grow into young adults, we see her beginning to treat them the same way Himmel treated her. Frieren doesn’t realize it until later in the season, but it’s apparent to us early on that Himmel well and truly loved her, and I feel that it’s dawning on her that she loved him too and didn’t recognize it. That is tragic in and of itself (this show absolutely is a tearjerker at times and I will cop to getting misty-eyed as I write this), but there is something beautiful, well beyond my grasp, in being able to honor the memory and carry out the legacy of a loved one in how you treat those around you. I don’t think anything could have made Himmel prouder.

Frieren herself is a really goddamn good character too (and expertly voiced by Atsumi Tanezaki, best known for voicing Anya Forger in Spy x Family). Though she is portrayed as quiet and uncaring for the early part of the story, it’s been really delightful to watch her open up, and above all, inadvertently reveal that she’s actually just Really Fucking Weird. For as self-assured and put together as she always seems on the surface, it was great to learn that she’s just an enormous slob (she just like me fr), and any outward expressions of smugness or her offbeat sense of humor are always a joy. “Deeply weird person trying to act normal” is always fun, and there’s just something so consistently delightful about seeing someone so typically calm and intelligent get caught in a mimic chest every single time.

I still can’t get over how fucking good this show looks. Beyond Journey’s End features some of the most intricate, loving animation I’ve seen for stuff as simple as someone putting on a jacket. Action scenes are few and far between, but not a single frame is wasted when shit pops off. Not everyone is as detailed as possible at all times, and they don’t need to be, but everyone looks incredible when they need to be. It’s well above my pay grade to accurately say so, but this show could be a lesson in proper animation budgeting. I could go on and on and on, but I’ve written nearly eighteen thousand words about anime, so I’ll wrap it up.

The debut season of Frieren will continue into 2024, and if the quality remains a constant, it could very well be one of the best anime of next year too. It has remained as MyAnimeList’s top-rated anime ever for its entire run, warding off the legion of Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood fans. Frieren deserves it. I say with no hyperbole that this is one of the most perfectly realized things I’ve ever seen on television. This is an essential watch for anyone who likes fantasy anime, anime in general, or fantasy in general.

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