And we’re off like a shot (a Slingshot, that is).
Our ever-expanding and technically nonexistent agencies return with new characters (although not necessarily new actors), new conflicts, and a new outlook on Inhumans.
As with the last half-season, I’m cross-posting these on The Mary Sue. You’re welcome to read them here, or go to the TMS page and join the Disqus fan chatter.
Showa Genroku is the Crocodile Dundee of winter anime. “You call that art? Now THIS is art!”
I had a moment after this week’s episode where all I could do was stare at the end credits while making little half-articulated “wow” noises. That was a beautiful, haunting, painful, stunning 22 minutes, so riveting that I straight-up forgot to take notes my first time through. Regardless of how the next few weeks pan out, after an episode like that I feel confident in saying that SGRS has already established itself as something truly special, an achievement in character writing and visual direction, using its art and music and phenomenal vocal performances to create a whole even greater than the sum of its fantastic parts. Two days later and I’m still trying to lift my jaw up off the floor.
The moon and stars aren’t breaking up—they just need a little space.
Nothing like secret identities to throw a wrench into the beginnings of bee-yoo-ti-ful friendships. We’re making the shift from magical girl sitcom to superhero drama this week, as is our seasonal tradition, which means big reveals and even bigger angst. Although really, when it comes to end-of-season hardships, the heroes got nothin’ on the villains. If you thought maintaining a personal relationship was tough as a good guy, try being a minion. Crow’ll tell ya. It is rough.
The light at the end of this tunnel is looking more like a speeding train with each passing week.
Due to a series of unexpected and slightly ridiculous events, I wound up handwriting this in the back of a car between bouts of motion sickness (#XtremeBlogging!), then quickly typing it up and posting it via shaky hot-spot WiFi. As such, it’s a bit scattershot, but I’ll do my best to keep it organized as we chat backgrounds, priorities, and shifting relationships.
After spending a whole lotta time firmly rooted in Kikuhiko’s perspective and developing opinions about others based on the way he sees them, we at last get some direct back story from our two supporting players that offers us our first real glimpse into the histories, hopes, and fears that have influenced and continue to drive them—and they’re not as different from our dour protagonist as you might think.
Fighting evil by moonlight, stalking toddlers by daylight…
We’re inching toward some kind of final confrontation, given the dropped plot crumbs and Galaxia’s increasing impatience. With just a single cour left I’m a little concerned we’ll be burning through story lines instead of stopping to smell the (probably literal) roses from time to time, but given all the new characters and murky motivations, I suspect it won’t be a boring final cour, at least.
For now, though, it’s one-part silly adventures, one-part power-ups, and all of it centers around The Littlest Bunhead. Chibi-Chibi is either going to be an impressive Mooniverse reveal or the convenient plot device that puts all other convenient plot devices to shame. Either way, I sure can’t call her inconsequential anymore.
Showa Genroku: A classic love story of boy-meets-rakugo.
Having at last found his voice, Kikuhiko’s star rises swiftly, as his performances earn him accolades from audiences and masters alike. But one person’s success can sometimes be another person’s loss, and the rapid changes occurring this week are as much about unraveling personal connections as they are about tightening professional ones.
Monster-of-the-week? More like monster-of-the-minute.
This is one of those times where I wish Sailor Moon didn’t feel like it had to fit a battle into every episode. There are a lot of interesting (or at least potentially interesting) out-of-costume conflicts and interactions swirling around right now, but we don’t get nearly enough time to explore them because they have to share 20-odd minutes with Seed Targets the series is clearly phoning in at this point. I love my goofy monsters and clever fights, but I’d much rather the show skip them entirely than half-heartedly cram them into a few obligatory minutes.
They say you should spend this day with a loved one, so…
Seeing as how it’s Valentine’s Day, I thought I’d begin this post by saying something I’ve neglected to mention throughout these many words of character analysis and directorial discussion: I am completely, utterly, over-the-moon in love with Showa Genroku Rakugo Shinju. I give myself a couple of days to write these commentaries because my hot takes would just be several paragraphs of caps-lock gushing and a bunch of sparkly-eyed, flailing reaction gifs. Every week I think I’ll get used to how good this show is, and every week I am once again floored by the sheer amount of thought and artistry that goes into this production.
Usagi’s Rolodex grows ever thicker.
When one minion falls, two shall rise up to take her place! Not too unexpected for Sailor Moon, and mostly a welcome change. Somewhat less expected is the arrival of another protagonist(?) in the wake of those minions, and just one more name to add to our already stuffed Stars cast. I am… less than thrilled about this new development, although taken as a whole these are still fun, solid episodes. Hit the jump to get acquainted.
Shakespeare may be nations and centuries away, but “all the world’s a stage” has never been a more apt sentiment.
Has there ever been a series with as much unabashed love for performers and performance as this one? From the many rakugo stories to the bursts of shamisen music to this week’s low-budget kabuki play, Showa Genroku depicts Japan’s classic performance arts with a careful attention to detail and a fierce respect for the mediums.
Yet the series never lets itself slip into rose-colored nostalgia; rather, like the rakugo-ka who preserve the tales of Edo (and therefore its lost world and the flawed people who lived in it), Showa Genroku seeks to capture with the same blend of affection and honesty a time, place, and people who no longer exist. And it accomplishes this the same way humanity so often has: Through the telling of stories.
The Josei Next Door 