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Raiyantsuuri no Uta is a period drama based on real events, recounting the life of an escaped forced labour prisoner of war, Inlen, a Chinese farmer who was forcefully taken to a coal mine in Hokkaido by the Japanese military during the Pacific War. Escaping just two weeks before Japan's defeat, after undergoing unimaginable forced labour, he embarks on a challenging life as a fugitive, yearning to return to China, oblivious to the war's conclusion.

The movie establishes itself with a hooking introduction, showing the escape from the labour prison and seamlessly transitioning into Inlen's life being on the run and struggling for survival in the ... harsh and cold environment. With the goal of returning to China, where his wife, pregnant with his child before their separation, may still be living and waiting for his return, Inlen plants Raiyantsuuri, a Chinese pear symbolising their love. With unparalleled hope and determination, he makes a promise to himself to return home and see his family again.

On the other hand, Tomoko, a Japanese first-grade elementary school student living at her relatives' house in Hokkaido, is unable to speak due to a shocking event she witnessed during the war. Often running away from home due to feeling like an unwanted burden, Tomoko one day hears a Chinese lullaby in the nearby forest. The singer is Inlen. The unsual dynamic between these two homesick tragic souls who can only communicate with their emotions ensues.

Beyond the suspenseful escape and survival, the movie offers profound and emotional elements, from war-induced PTSD to inhumane labour and the ache of separation from loved ones. Inlen and Tomoko, broken spirits finding solace through a shared lullaby, bridge the gap between their differences – she is mute, and he is Chinese – through sharing feelings rather than words. In the midst of fleeting, peaceful moments steeped in nostalgia and reminiscing about the irreversible past, the evolution of Inlen and Tomoko unfolds as their experiences shape them.

It touches upon the sins of the past through the innocent lens of a child, delivering a powerful message about the responsibility to prevent further pain and suffering, while also emphasising the importance of acknowledging and learning from the harsh and shameful aspects of history. It also subtly touches upon anti-nationalism, reminding us that despite wars and cultural differences, humans share basic needs, whether physical or emotional, fostering a universal connection.

Raiyantsuuri no Uta may lack the captivating animation of higher-budget Ghibli films like Grave of the Fireflies; still, visually, it retains a calm charm that complements its mature and down-to-earth storytelling. It may not boast the grandeur of some war dramas, but it stands as a testament to the enduring human spirit, encapsulating a simple yet emotionally resonant story, distinguishing itself by presenting a surrogate parent-child chemistry between characters of seemingly different backgrounds, yet both complete and nurture each other, weaving a poignant and unique story.

Set in a futuristic cyberpunk setting, where humanity struggle against giant man eating insects using their advanced manned mecha. Kanata, the novice pilot, in a cave, stumbles upon a silver-haired red-eyed sleeping Ayanami Rei-clone, who then wakes up with the classic 'I-can't-remember-anything'.

The premise appears intriguing on paper and filled with potential for mystery, intense action against scary giant insects, and -even if overdone- the exploration of themes like human-AI relationships or ethical dilemmas in science. However, upon watching, it becomes apparent the official site's synopsis is merely a facade.

Starting with the positives, Synduality Noir diverges from the conventional dark and gritty tone commonly linked with ... such premises. Instead, it offers humour, employing elements of misunderstanding and situational comedy, and, controversially, some sex jokes that might not be for everyone.

Ignoring the CGI, the anime also features vibrant pretty colours and detailed backgrounds. The cityscapes during daylight and the cluttered indoor settings contribute to a lively backdrop.

As for the story, if I were to describe it in one sentence, it's an incohesive, directionless mess of a narrative.

The protagonist, Kanata, is a pathetic loser with skewed priorities. He is mainly concerned about his self-esteem and image. His pursuit of acceptance among his peers as a skilled pilot, despite having many supportive friends, makes him an annoying character to watch. Furthermore, Kanata is indecisive and often relies on his mentor figures, Tokio or Maria. For instance, although the audience is anticipating Noir to regain her memories, Kanata shows no interest in her memory recovery. The idea of returning to the cave where Noir was found and searching for possible clues and leads wasn't Kanata's; it was Maria's. Maria, who didn't even need to feel responsible for helping Noir, did so regardless, while Kanata remained unmotivated, leaving the weight of that mission on the shoulders of his friends.

Instead of aiding Noir, Kanata is content with her being amnesiac. He even explicitly states that, portraying a wish-fulfilment attitude as the protagonist is content to leave the amnesiac android waifu that calls him 'master'. The show doesn't call him out for his lack of responsibility. Kanata, rather than helping Noir, is more concerned about his image and reputation as a pilot (which isn't even bad or negatively affecting his life), and maintaining his kuudere android in her broken state. The show doesn't discuss or draw attention to Kanata's pathetic nature, and the only reason he has low self-esteem is that he isn't a skilled pilot, not because he is selfish and irresponsible.

Even Noir herself, whose personality is as dead as a doll, is more proactive than the protagonist. She is more interesting and deserved more screentime. In the second episode, she goes out by herself to search for clues to regain her memory, such as trying to fix the camera found near her place of slumber. Due to her being autistic and socially inept, she gets into trouble, being caught by a discount Team Rocket that steal precious androids. After a long rescue mission, the camera turns out to be empty, what a complete waste of airtime!

By episode 3, I was confident to conclude the anime doesn't regard its own premise as important. The episode starts with the main character visiting the Red Light City (yes, that's how they referred to it) to boost his self-esteem and manhood by losing his virginity to a brothel's prostitute (and yes, also wasn't his idea). What about the protagonist's goal to find Histoire, the Legendary City he mentioned in episode 1? What about helping his emotionless android partner? Nah, let's dedicate a whole episode about the MC going to fuck a hooker.

Oh, did I forget to mention this show has supposedly dangerous man-eating insects of doom attacking the cities from time to time? They are treated like nothing more than a simple earthquake; humanity is still strong, living their lives normally, with no fear of possibly dying at any moment. There's no tension, no anguish from the victims' friends and relatives because there are no victims! It's fake tension; the premise is a lie. While the premise, on paper, sounds similar to popular titles such as Attack on Titan and Evangelion, don't expect a gloomy atmosphere and a constant sense of desperate struggle. The existence of these so-called dangerous monsters is treated merely as a decoration. The focus of this anime is the protagonist proving himself to be as skilled as his peers. Noir is merely a mystery box the show barely draws attention to, and the monsters are just plot devices that show up at the most convenient times but barely pose a threat, even to a newbie pilot like Kanata.

The disconnect between the advertised premise and the actual content leaves viewers with nothing but a comedy filled with sex jokes and soulless CGI action. Synduality Noir is a deceptive disappointment, a yet another shameless, low-effort video game promotion.

Manga Sarutobi Sasuke (1979), also known as 'Ninja, The Wonder Boy' in America, is the third iteration of the Sarutobi Sasuke character in anime, following 'Magic Boy' (1959) and 'Sasuke' (1968). While 'Magic Boy' adopts a whimsical fairy tale style and 'Sasuke' delves into a serious grim political feud, this anime attempts to blend both by being political yet goofy.

Despite its initial promise of political intrigue, the anime merely uses internal politics as a backdrop for conflicts. The plot centres around the samurai and warlord Sanada Yukimura in the Sengoku period, who fights in the name of peace. Sasuke, who shares those ideals, pledges allegiance ... to Lord Sanada and undertakes various daily missions, such as espionage, sabotaging enemy arsenals, and thwarting their evil schemes. The core conflict involves Sasuke's clashes with a rival ninja clan serving the enemy. This clan frequently dispatches its top elite ninjas to eliminate Sasuke, assassinate Sanada, aid the enemy's schemes, or simply act as bodyguards.

The series quickly falls into a repetitive pattern. It adopts a 'monster of the week' formula, or rather, 'ninja of the week', with each episode featuring a new enemy ninja. The promised cool ninja action and battles fail to deliver excitement, as the fights become monotonous, especially during climactic showdowns where Sasuke and his opponents often transform into huge kaiju monsters. Furthermore, the overuse of ninja tricks, such as substituting themselves with logs or other objects, diminishes the tension, as both sides can employ deus ex machina ninja magic to escape danger.

Visually, the anime stands out with its pretty bright colours and catchy visual effects. Alas, the limitations of the series' budget become apparent, evident in the frequent reuse of animation sequences after just a few episodes.

Although the series may evoke nostalgia for certain viewers, especially those who watched it dubbed during their youth, it's not recommended for those seeking immersive experience.

In the animation history landscape, Tteodori Kkachi holds a special place as the first South Korean anime to grace television screens. This pioneering creation emerged as a special movie-length episode, a testament to the evolving landscape of South Korean animation. Adapted from a sports manhwa created by Lee Hyun-se in 1984, Tteodori Kkachi introduces us to the world of Seol Kkachi, a young boy who, for years, has been embarking on a wandering journey alongside Seol Dae-po, his father. Now, a pivotal juncture has arrived—a moment to ponder settling down.

The series unfurls on Kkachi's first day at a new school, his initial cheekiness leaving an ... unfavourable impression. As a series of events unfold, his enigmatic background gradually comes to light. We uncover the story of a motherless child who has spent his life in perpetual wandering. However, beneath the surface of his hardships, Kkachi's irrepressible cheerfulness remains unscathed. It is Ma Dong-tak, captain of the school's baseball team, who becomes the harbinger of change. Noticing Kkachi's extraordinary baseball skills, Ma Dong-tak extends an invitation to join the team—a proposition Kkachi initially refuses.

The narrative gains complexity as Kkachi's father, Seol Dae-po, finds himself entangled in a new relationship. This poignant story, involving a financially burdened widow caring for her crippled daughter, prompts Dae-po to make a life-altering decision. Meanwhile, Kkachi's journey takes him onto the school's baseball team guided by Ma Dong-tak. However, simmering tensions surface as Dae-po's remarriage forces Kkachi to confront his past, thrusting him into a struggle to embrace the present. His ongoing emotional turmoil, stemming from the loss of his mother, impedes his integration into the new family structure.

Guided by Ma Dong-tak's counsel, Kkachi dedicates himself to baseball, leading the team through preliminary rounds. Simultaneously, the dynamics within his own family take a turn. Dae-po's remarriage prompts Kkachi's contemplation of his mother's memory—a struggle characterised not by a dislike for his new family, but by a lingering attachment to the past. Overcoming this emotional turmoil and adapting to the radical change in his life emerge as the crux of his journey—a journey that ultimately leads to settling down after years of wandering.

As the plot weaves further, Dae-po's travels abroad to fund the operation of Dal-hee, his remarried wife's daughter, leave the family separated. This development pushes Kkachi into the challenging terrain of reconciliation with his stepmother and stepsister. Guided by the camaraderie of Ma Dong-tak, Kkachi assumes a leadership role, striving to lead the baseball team to victory.

In the midst of these events, Kkachi forms bonds, particularly with Choe Eomji—a gloomy track and field runner and a fellow schoolmate. As their interactions unfold, a love interest emerges. Through heartfelt conversations, they peel away the layers of their lives, sharing their struggles and worries, gradually lifting the weight off their shoulders, ultimately finding solace through their conversations.

The protagonist's unique character design featuring a funny peculiar hair, was actually based on a South Korean celebrity named Cho Sang-gu, who was also an old friend of the creator. The name 'Kkachi', derived from the Korean word for Magpie, a bird species renowned for its ceaseless journeys across continents, serves as a poignant reflection of the protagonist's transient lifestyle within the confines of a truck trailer.

Amidst these intricate narratives, Dallyeola Hani emerges as a parallel franchise within South Korean animation. Born from a sports manhwa in 1985, it ascended to greater popularity and success than its spiritual predecessor, Tteodori Kkachi. Uncanny similarities pervade character dynamics and narrative direction, notably the shared experiences of protagonists grappling with the death of their mothers. The journey to reconcile with their stepmothers, while depicted differently, remains connected by a common narrative thread. Even a few character designs exhibit eerie resemblances, most notably Hani's nemesis rival, Na Aeri to Eomji—both were also track and field runners. However, Dallyeola Hani takes an exaggerated approach; it's more dramatic, tragic, and violent, a style that may be deemed 'edgy' and immature by discerning viewers. In contrast, Tteodori Kkachi adheres to a measured tone grounded in realism. Although personally, I still prefer Dallyeola Hani.

You might be wondering why, given its mature approach, I hold Kkachi in lower esteem compared to Hani. The rationale lies in the broader array of characters and the more intricate character dynamics Hani offers. Despite its movie-length format, the pacing of Tteodori Kkachi tends to meander, with crucial plot developments unfolding at a dragging pace. Furthermore, Eomji, Kkachi's love interest, remains insufficiently explored. A silent flashback only hints at an argument between her and Ma Dong-tak, presumably linked to his unwavering commitment to baseball—a facet that strains his relationships with friends and family. This sort of dramatic plot point finds a more fitting home in sports anime delving into social themes, much like in Ping Pong the Animation.

Kkachi's struggle to adapt to his new life, while rooted in reality, proves tedious to watch. It's a challenge that doesn't demand immediate resolution, but rather unfolds with time. Kkachi requires time, and as viewers, we're left waiting. Although Kkachi's tribulations stem from his own choices, like his collapse due to malnutrition, they fail to significantly impact other characters or generate broader consequences. In my opinion, these shortcomings that render Kkachi monotonous find resolution in Dallyeola Hani. The latter artfully interweaves characters' individual problems, causing ripples that disturb the equilibrium of their interactions. The resulting chemistry and multifaceted character development prove much more engaging than solitary struggles, particularly when confronting issues that demand specific actions rather than passive waiting, as seen in the mundane 'getting used to' arc.

I don't recommend Tteodori Kkachi due to the reasons I've mentioned. It's not a show I'd even suggest for baseball enthusiasts. Don't watch it unless you're really curious about experiencing the first South Korean TV anime.

Rainbow Sentai Robin is based on a shounen manga titled 'Rainbow Sentai', published in 1965. The manga was meant to complement the anime but, after a single volume release, it was quickly cancelled due to lack of popularity. Labelling the anime a direct adaptation of the brief one-shot manga is a stretch, considering its extensive 48-episode run. Consequently, the anime integrates significant original content, differentiating it from the source material.

The series kicks off with the trappings of a generic tokusatsu anime, an unsurprising—and uninspiring—choice given the genre's prominence across various forms of Japanese media during the 1960s and 1970s. However, Rainbow Sentai Robin distinguishes itself ... from its contemporary tokusatsu peers such as Astro Boy, Space Ace, Gigantor, and Eighth Man. Unlike these shows, it succeeds in achieving a unique balance within its main cast. While the titular character Robin's name adorns the series, he doesn't bear the sole burden of action. Each member of Rainbow Sentai contributes significantly to the team, with all enjoying their fair share of screen time despite not necessarily driving the overarching plot.

Drawing from the 1960s, Rainbow Sentai Robin exudes the unmistakable aura of its era. Presented in black and white, its distinct lack of pretty colours is a hallmark of the time. The animation quality, influenced by the period's limitations, occasionally relies on recycled animation footage, a common occurrence throughout its 48-episode run. Given its historical context, these constraints are to be expected in an old anime series.

— MIDWAY CONCLUSION —
Unfortunately, the narrative structure falters in providing a satisfying conclusion. The real climax emerges around the midpoint (episode 26), leaving the latter segment of the series without proper closure. Ideally, the series could have wrapped up at episode 26, providing a more gratifying resolution to the overarching storyline. Despite that atrocious conclusion, this episode effectively achieves a fitting climax after a proper build-up. As for the actual final episode, it comes across as another filler episode that could fit anywhere in the series, failing to feel like a conclusive ending for the series.

— OFFENSIVE ELEMENTS OR DARK HUMOUR? —
The anime embodies elements reflective of its 1960s context, which may not align with modern sensitivities. Instances of violence towards animals and women, especially the portrayal of female characters as inept and unintelligent, evoke concerns of sexism. Additionally, the inclusion of stereotypical depictions of certain ethnicities like black Africans and Mexicans could potentially be perceived as racist. The protagonist, Robin, at times exhibits traits characteristic of a sociopathic hero, as seen in his cold murdering of villains, assaulting animals, and physical aggression towards women. He also employs ruthless pragmatic tactics to overcome his enemies without batting an eye. This type of unintentional contentious sociopathy, reminiscent of the infamous Speed Racer, might resonate with aficionados of dark humour, provided they approach it from an unserious perspective.

— CHARACTER DYNAMICS AND ATTRIBUTES —
The heart of Rainbow Sentai undeniably resides in its compelling cast of characters. Each main character contributes significantly to the show's appeal. Every member boasts a distinctive design, personality, and special abilities, all of which are utilised to foster teamwork and accomplish tasks. This synergy among the cast members is evident in their seamless cooperation and complementation. Robin, while occupying the lead role, doesn't monopolise the spotlight. His leadership entails intricate planning, coordination, and tactical strategy, enriching the show's dynamics.

— ROBIN —
The titular protagonist, Robin, serves as the sole human member and leader of Rainbow Sentai. Despite lacking extraordinary abilities, he's far from being a mere pushover. Agile and proficient in piloting his trusty Pegasus, he's also a skilled shooter. Robin's vulnerability as a human, being susceptible to injuries and temperature extremes, adds a touch of humanity to his character, which becomes especially noteworthy considering how other ostensibly robot characters deviate from robotic behaviour, whether in humuorous or serious scenes. His connection to the overarching plot emerges late—unfortunately, too late—revealing a rescue mission to free his parents from an evil, nazi-looking army force. Robin's stern demeanor and intolerance for mistakes often influence his interactions with teammates, inadvertently leading to strained relationships.

— PROFESSOR —
The Professor, a wise-looking short robot, plays a crucial role as an advisor. Exhibiting an air of arrogance and occasional comedic anger, he provides valuable scientific insights and hacking abilities, positioning him—implicitly—as the second-in-command. He's often seen beside Robin in important meetings, advising him, or even leading the team in Robin's absence. Similar to Robin, he's stern, but he's even more prone to getting angry, usually in a comically humuorous manner. At times, he acts arrogantly and tries to claim all the credit, yet beneath it all, he's genuinely kind and caring towards the other members. This is evident when he expresses concern for their well-being or shows relief when they survive challenging situations. To Robin, he serves as a father figure, not just because of his age and wisdom, but because he raised Robin from infancy, a time when Robin lost his biological parents.

— LILI —
Lili is the designated token female member of the team, designed with a nurse-like appearance. Her design is not solely driven by uniform fetishes but rather aligns with her role as the team's healer. She possesses the unique ability to swiftly mend human injuries and repair robot parts. Additionally, she played a nurturing role in Robin's upbringing, alongside Professor, and served as a mother figure—as mentioned in the anime. But she also displays a romantic interest in Robin; we have a figurative cyber-incest here everyone! Yay!

Anyway, Lili conforms to the archetype of the 'token girl', embodying certain gender-related stereotypes. She engages in activities stereotypically associated with girls, such as indulging in romantic daydreams, dancing and singing with joy, and having an affinity for shopping and fashion. On occasion, she makes awkward attempts to seduce Robin, which often end in failure. Paradoxically, she herself becomes the target of enemy spies' attempts at seduction, inadvertently placing the team in jeopardy. resulting Robin to get angry at her to the point of physically assaulting her.

Despite these idiosyncrasies, Lili is a very valuable asset to Rainbow Sentai, and one of my favourite characters in the show due to the funny situations that happens whenever she's involved.

— BELL —
Lili isn't the sole female character on the team. Another female presence is Bell, a female cat with a unique role as a radar for detecting enemy presence and suspicious activities. Bell also possesses the ability to project false images to deceive enemies or to create visual aids, akin to a slide show presentation. Additionally, she can record and play back events or cassette tapes.

Bell's character is marked by her sarcastic personality, which contributes to her humourous interactions but sadly was somewhat underutilised. She often accompanies Professor, likely due to her small size that allows her to fit into various places, like inside Benkei, the colossal robot. Her interactions with Professor frequently involve heated arguments.

— BENKEI —
Benkei, a colossal yet gentle robot, assumes the role of the team's muscle. His polite and apologetic demeanour contrasts his imposing appearance. His propensity for creating unintentional problems for the squad provides a source of humour, often resulting in angering Professor while poor Benkei keeps apologising. His role is to provide the necessary muscle for the team, or provide energy for the Professor when the old man is low on power, and by provide energy I meant breastfeeding him—I am not joking—.

— WOLF —
Wolf, the suave sharpshooter, adds a rule of cool to the team. Operating as both an espionage expert and formidable combatant, his tendency towards overconfidence often leads to entertaining predicaments. Sporting stylish sunglasses and dual-wielding a pair of guns, Wolf is undoubtedly the coolest member of the team. He boasts impressive speed, agility, and shooting skills, and can even disguise himself as objects like trees or furniture, and even imitate enemies. His primary role involves espionage and intelligence gathering, but he frequently takes on offensive tasks by leading the charge against the enemy. Despite his occasional overconfidence and recklessness that can get him into trouble, he remains a valuable tactician, positioning him as a strong contender for the third-in-command role due to his strategic prowess.

— PEGASUS —
I saved Pegasus for the last as he's the least interesting character in Rainbow Sentai. He serves as the supersonic aircraft piloted by Robin, capable of transforming into a rocket or a submarine as well. He doesn't engage extensively with the other team members, but it's understandable given his apparent disdain for being piloted by less skilled handlers like Lili, in a playful nod to the 'women can't drive' stereotype. Setting jokes aside, Pegasus falls on the less interesting side of the spectrum. He remains inconspicuous, which in my opinion is preferable to forcing interactions with a character who lacks a compelling personality. Offering him the modest screen time he warrants without attempting to flesh out his uninteresting persona was a prudent choice.

— CONCLUSION —
While Rainbow Sentai Robin stands out for its engaging character dynamics, enjoyable action sequences, as well as moments of slapstick comedy, I cannot recommend the anime. It's drawn-out, incohesively structred with a disappointing conclusion and second half. Those curious about black and white anime or 1960s anime, better alternatives can be found in its superior predecessor, Cyborg 009, or Dororo, which offer more serious and cohesive storytelling, artistic cinematic visuals, and meaningful themes.

'Recently, My Sister Is Unusual' light novel introduces Mitsuki's emotional trauma resulting from her parents' divorce. This premise explores Mitsuki's struggles with feelings of abandonment and her attempts to cope with her new family dynamics. However, while the novel briefly touches on these complexities, it falls short of consistently exploring this potentially profound theme throughout the narrative, which is expected from your average horny harem school romcom.

The novel faces challenges in maintaining its course and direction. Chapter 4 introduces a forced romantic tension between Mitsuki and Yuuya, central characters meant to drive the plot. Unfortunately, the lack of genuine emotional development between them renders their ... relationship feeling contrived and inauthentic. For instance, the 'love quest' in chapter 5, where Mitsuki and Yuuya are tasked to act like a couple, fails to evoke genuine romantic chemistry, leading to awkward and cringe-worthy situations that do little to advance the narrative or deepen character connections.

Additionally, Hiyori, an important character, suffers from underdevelopment. Despite her initial role as a mischievous ghost, she quickly becomes one-dimensional, primarily serving as a source of comedic situations. In chapter 6's beach resort antics, Hiyori's constant mischief disrupts the narrative's potential for exploring her motivations or feelings more meaningfully.

Furthermore, the love triangle involving Mitsuki, Yuuya, and Hiyori lacks depth and complexity. The novel often resorts to predictable scenarios, such as Hiyori's frequent attempts to make Mitsuki and Yuuya horny for each other, without delving into the characters' conflicting emotions and desires. This lack of substantial exploration weakens the overall impact of the love triangle, diminishing its potential for genuine tension and intrigue.

One of the novel's gimmicks is the TST ability, which allows Hiyori to take over Mitsuki's body temporarily. While this concept presents an opportunity for a deeper exploration of identity, self-discovery, and consent, it is predominantly used for comedic effect. Chapter 7's folk dance scene is one such example, where Hiyori's attempts at intimacy are played for laughs, trivialising the potential seriousness of the situation and the implications of the TST ability.

It fails to capitalise on its plot elements and gimmicks. The lack of coherence and consistent character development detracts from the narrative's potential impact, leaving much to be desired, except for providing lousy, tasteless, horny soft-porn artworks.

Queen's Blade: Unlimited, as a soft reboot of the original Queen's Blade, introduces a new continuation while retaining the characters and the setting. This reboot takes a darker approach compared to its predecessors. Notably, the tournament now allows participants to kill their opponents, a departure from the previous iterations where such actions were discouraged. Additionally, the winner of any match has the power to demand anything from the defeated, intensifying the stakes and adding a layer of tension to the battles, on paper, that is.

Despite my personal distaste for the franchise, I must acknowledge that Queen's Blade manages to maintain a consistent level of quality ... throughout. Consistently bad, that is. It still manages to avoid plummeting into the realm of being a complete and utter disaster.

The decision to reboot the series with Queen's Blade: Unlimited stems from the unresolved cliffhanger ending of the previous anime adaptation, Queen's Blade: Rebellion. Unfortunately, even with the reboot, Unlimited only consists of two-episode OVA, leaving many storylines unresolved and leaving fans yearning for more—if the horny fans care about the actual plot, that is.

Queen's Blade: Unlimited introduces Elina, the daughter of Count Vance, who embarks on a journey to locate her sister, Reina, now a warrior participating in the Queen's Blade tournament. The addition of Michelle, an amnesiac shota with a connection to the Cathedral of the 'Magic Flute', ejaculates eccentricity into the narrative and hints at the enigmatic nature of Maramax, the legendary land sought after by the characters. But Michelle is actually just there to provide fanservice for those who have sick fetishes. However, I must admit the 'Magic Flute' fanservice was a creative touch—not in the sense 'portable penis' is an original concept—it isn't—, but in the sense the animation team managed to convey heavy implied sexualisation without the need for censorship or shifting camera angles. It was a clever approach, but it still falls into the realm of fetishistic soft porn, so screw it.

Unlimited may appeal to fans of the Queen's Blade franchise who are seeking a darker and more intense iteration. But in reality, that's only on paper. As I mentioned previously, while the winner of any match has the power to demand anything from the defeated, the only demand occurred in these two episodes was Elina being the horny bisexual sadist she is, enslaving other female competitors to lick her feet and engage in sexual activities with her. She's essentially building a harem of slaves for herself, including a shota token on the side if that can be counted.

Lastly, it is worth mentioning the random 'pussy tape' scene, because—ew—that's your typical Queen's Blade crude and cringy dialogue and attempt at humour.

Ultimately, Unlimited OVA offers the usual fare of what Queen's Blade offers—mindless action, fan service, and sadistic ass-kicking lesbians.

Saint Elmo is an anime set in a futuristic world where Earth's energy source, the space power plant Saint Elmo, faces a critical malfunction. As the protagonist's girlfriend lies in a coma, the power outage puts her life at risk. With international outrage mounting, the protagonist, Yuuki, embarks on a high-stakes journey into space to fix the power plant and save his girlfriend, leading to a race against time filled with danger and suspense. However, despite its promising premise, Saint Elmo falls short in delivering an engaging and memorable space adventure.

In the future, where, for environmental reasons, Earth's power source is located in space, orbiting ... the sun. This energy is generated by a large space power plant known as Saint Elmo, situated on the planet Mercury. Built solely by Japan, without involvement from other countries, because in anime as we know, Japan is the centre of the universe. Humorously, the anime actually acknowledges this fact during the first half, cleverly showcasing international outrage directed at Japan's perceived incompetence. Adding to the urgency, Mayu, Yuuki's girlfriend, falls critically ill and is hospitalised after a relevant incident during a previous space mission to Saint Elmo. Though she survives, she remains in a coma, and with the power now cut off, Earth relies on backup energy and batteries, putting Mayu's life in danger. With no other choice, Yuuki embarks on a journey into space to fix the power plant, amplifying the story's sense of urgency due to the international outrage and the impending loss of his girlfriend.

The first half effectively establishes the primary objective of identifying and resolving the issues with the space power plant Saint Elmo. It also introduces a mystery bait, as the mysterious incident at the power plant leads to animals suddenly gaining the ability to speak and exhibit high intelligence, puzzling the scientists involved.

The second half encompasses the actual journey into space. Yuuki travels with a crew comprising experts from various nations. I was excited by the introduction of a diverse range of characters, as I am a fan of works featuring an ensemble cast. However, I was disappointed to find that, apart from the plain Japanese boy scout protagonist, the other crew members are nothing more than one-dimensional walking racial stereotypes. The blonde European lady drinks tea, the black African woman worships the sun and talks about lions and her name is Simba, the Russian man is a vodka drunkard wearing an ushanka, the blonde American dude speaks Engrish, the Chinese guy talks about his noodles and ancient Chinese medicine, and the Egyptian boy, wearing a kufi cap, also, besides the sun, worships a scarab while pouring Arabian coffee from his dallah.

While the space journey itself, on paper, is filled with risks and stakes, as they have to venture near the sun and tackle an unknown technical issue, with failure potentially plunging Earth into the dark ages and endangering Mayu's life as well as the crew members', the journey itself was a bore to watch. The only thing I cared about was the mysterious cause of the malfunctioning space power plant Saint Elmo, which is why I referred to it as a 'mystery bait'. The revelation of the cause is interesting in concept but feels out of place and fails to add any thematic depth or meaningfulness to the story. It doesn't offer any valuable insights; it simply feels like an excuse to set the characters on a tedious space journey.

Amongst the unfolding chaos, Yuuki stumbles upon his father's helmet by sheer coincidence. This helmet holds a message from his father, who constructed the power plant and died afterwards. It is worth noting that the power plant was massive and was teetering on the brink of destruction. The message within not only contains crucial information on how to prevent the potential incident, but also, according to the same message, predicts the incident with a probability of a mere 'one-in-a-hundred-million chance'. And the son finds that unnecessarily obscurely hidden message. One must wonder: what are the odds?

I don't recommend this anime, not even to die-hard fans of the space subgenre. It is dull and lacklustre, and you won't be missing out on anything by skipping it. Instead, opt for other space anime options. I don't feel the need to mention specific titles, as the chances of encountering a space anime as boring as Saint Elmo are 'one-in-a-hundred-million'.

The mecha genre has undergone significant evolution, raising questions about its current relevance. While some detractors dismiss AMAIM Warrior at the Borderline as a cheap Gundam knockoff, a closer examination of modern mecha titles, including Gundam itself, reveals how the genre has transformed to cater to the preferences of a new generation. Traditional tropes and elements have been reimagined and reshaped, aligning with the changing tastes and demands of contemporary anime audiences. This observation is not solely based on personal claims; even Takuya Okamoto, the producer of Witch from Mercury at studio Sunrise, acknowledges that classic Gundam titles no longer resonate with modern viewers. ... This phenomenon extends beyond mecha alone and can be seen across various subgenres.

Many long-time fans and seasoned mecha enthusiasts have understandably grown disenchanted with the genre, shifting their attention to alternative forms of entertainment. Mecha anime has become inundated with tired elements and tropes, including school settings, waifu-baits, edgy immature presentation, otaku culture, horny fanservice, and moe character designs. These prevailing trends have alienated the older generation of mecha fans who yearn for a departure from the modernised and formulaic aspects prevalent in contemporary mecha titles.

However, in this landscape of fatigue, a handful of lesser-known titles, such as AMAIM, have boldly reintroduced old-school political mecha tropes into the modern era. Regrettably, due to its departure from conventional elements, the series has largely escaped the notice of both traditional mecha enthusiasts and contemporary audiences. The veterans have grown disillusioned, hesitant to venture into new mecha titles, while fans of the modern approach find AMAIM unappealing compared to their usual fare. Consequently, the series finds itself trapped in a paradoxical position, failing to capture the attention of either group.

That being said, while AMAIM successfully avoids employing tropes that don't belong in a political mecha, and that retro mecha fans, including myself, have grown weary of in anime, it is crucial to note that the mere avoidance of these tropes does not automatically make an anime exceptional. It takes more than the absence of undesirable elements to create a truly remarkable and memorable work.

AMAIM Warrior at the Borderline, another production from Sunrise and helmed by the veteran director Habara Nobuyoshi, renowned for his niche 'cult classic' mecha anime like Fafner (dubbed a 'discount Evangelion') and Broken Blade (labelled a 'discount Gundam'), offers a simple yet intriguing premise rooted in political war drama. The story unfolds in a world where four rival nations, where not America, not Russia, not Australia, and not China, vie for control over Japan. Concurrently, a Japanese resistance military faction named Yatagarasu, fights to reclaim their homeland, joined by unexpected allies from not Germany (and not Italy, if this is going where I think it's going), adding another layer of complexity to the conflict. This multi-faceted setup presents a stage populated by at least five different nations, turning Japan into a war-torn battleground.

What sets AMAIM apart from the two abovementioned titles is its ability to strike a delicate balance; rather than strictly focusing on angsty teenagers battling monsters with giant robots or delivering a run-of-the-mill political war drama with a fully adult cast. It features fewer emo kids fighting in a war that involves a dangerous and enigmatic entity—an unmanned robot called 'Ghost' which is scary and nearly invincible.

The anime begins by immersing viewers in a dystopian future where Japan teeters on the edge of collapse due to economic failures, an aging population, and low birth rates. This setting effectively establishes the dire state of the country and the need for external assistance. The audience is introduced to a Japan on the brink of societal breakdown, where powerful nations and allied forces respond to the crisis by deploying highly advanced humanoid war machines called AMAIM. This deployment aims to 'aid' Japan during this tumultuous time but ultimately leads to the Boundary War. The anime successfully establishes a dystopian narrative that delves into profound themes such as identity, nationalism, and personal connections within a struggling Japan. By providing a vivid depiction of a society on the verge of collapse, it introduces viewers to a diverse cast of characters who navigate this complex and hostile environment.

The narrative follows Amou Shiiba, a young scavenger who navigates the divided landscape of Japan, scavenging discarded AMAIM parts. Through Amou's experiences, the anime prompts viewers to contemplate the consequences of external intervention and occupation on a nation's identity and the lives of its individuals. The tension between Japanese locals and foreign forces highlights the cultural and social divide within a multicultural society. It raises questions about the clash of values and power dynamics in a world where occupation and resistance exist side by side. The presence of Japanese terrorists and extraterritorial jurisdiction hints at a complex power dynamic and foreshadows potential conflicts that arise from the occupation.

The anime explores themes of hopelessness and limited prospects within a struggling society through Amou's introspective monologues. The socio-economic challenges facing Japan, including high unemployment and a declining GDP, permeate the narrative, creating an atmosphere of despair and frustration. For Amou, his connection with machines becomes a form of escapism and a coping mechanism in a world where he can exert control and agency. It also touches upon the concept of identity and the anonymity of online relationships. Amou's interactions with his online friends, whose true identities and locations remain unknown, underscore the significance of shared interests and virtual communities as sources of support and camaraderie.

Amou, the central protagonist, after becoming a fugitive, finds himself taken to the base camp of Yatagarasu, where he is exposed to the operations and ideals of the resistance group. The base camp serves as a central hub for individuals who are dedicated to fighting for Japan's independence. It is here that Amou is given an opportunity to align himself with a cause greater than himself and become part of the struggle. Amou, who was previously focused on personal survival and evading capture, is now faced with a decision that will shape his future. The leaders of Yatagarasu present Amou with 'compelling reasons' and motivations to join their fight; they even have Risa try hard to convince Amou to join their group; she even strips her shirt for Amou so that the young teenage boy knows if he joins the Yatagarasu, he will get to hang out with some hot chicks...what? 'That scene was not sexualised', you say? But, in-universe, it's still sexy; I mean, it may not be sexy to us, but it was sexy for him, you know what I mean? Anyway, jokes aside, Amou was still hesitant and reluctantly joined, only to leave them and then rejoin, lol. What an obnoxious, indecisive sucker Amou was. But at least the Yatagarasu respected his choice, even though they were fine with the idea of recruiting child soldiers, right?

The anime continues to depict intense action sequences and emotional character development as the team faces challenges and confronts the enemy. The importance of teamwork and the resilience of the human spirit are highlighted throughout the battles. The narrative also delves into themes of revenge, loss, and the complexities of decision-making in times of war. It introduces the central conflict between the Japanese resistance and the occupying forces, showcasing the bravery and sacrifices made by the young characters involved in the resistance movement. The story sets the stage for political maneuvering, as well as the introduction of the Ghost robot as a formidable threat. It reveals further political complexities and introduces a neutral country such as Brenson Corp, expanding the scope of the conflict and highlighting the multi-layered nature of the war.

While some may dismiss the premise as mere Japanese nationalism propaganda, which holds some truth, it is essential to recognise that the quality of a story extends beyond its thematic exploration. Even if it were propaganda, it would not automatically render the story bad. The key lies in providing engaging storytelling while subtly critiquing the political themes at play. Unfortunately, one of the weaknesses of AMAIM is its lack of moral ambiguity. The series leans towards a blatant and preachy narrative in favour of nationalism, presenting anti-nationalist characters as either selfish and power-hungry or simply dim-witted, pathetic pacifists. This oversimplification robs the story of the potential for a nuanced exploration of complex political ideologies and the shades of grey within them.

Moreover, the credibility of the war setting is another point where AMAIM stumbles. In a genre centered around mechanised warfare, it becomes crucial to maintain a level of realism and believability in the strategic aspects of the conflict. While AMAIM isn't pretentious and doesn't try to be strategically complex, or involves chess in its battles, it is still important to show plausible strategies and tactics in war. AMAIM often falls into the trap of employing contrived plot points to drive the war forward. The war loses its meaning when a few giant robots easily overpower entire armies or launch sudden attacks on supposedly secure cities without enemies' prior knowledge. This diminishes the effectiveness and credibility of other units, undermining the tension they should bring to the story. When a single giant robot can effortlessly destroy not just one, but two military platoons, it becomes more akin to a battle-shounen disguised as a political war mecha.

Some may criticise the anime for glorifying war, and they are not wrong based on what the anime has presented in this installment. Amou, the protagonist, acted like a 'wuss' and refuses to 'get in the damn robot' to fight alongside the Japanese resistance military. Meanwhile, his angry and vengeful partner, Gashin, constantly urges Amou to join them and fight the invaders. Eventually, Gashin is proven right: 'You can't protect those you love without fighting, you can't stop war without engaging in it, you must wage a war to end wars; you must crush your enemies, see them driven before you, and to hear the lamentations of their women! Where is your sense of patriotism and nationalism?! Yes, you must murder people to reclaim former glory of your homeland!' Except you don't, 'cause you're fighting unmanned robots, well, most of the time. It's still dull! The futuristic sci-fi setting, with highly intelligent artificial intelligence, may excuse the absence of traditional war drama tropes, but can we consider it an intriguing war drama when there are minimal civilian casualties and enemy soldiers barely get killed? I wanted to see more murdering and explosions goddammit! So, here you go, anti-war literature lovers who dislike war glorification. You somewhat got what you wanted with the pacifist 'wuss' excuse of a protagonist, even though the show consistently calls out his lack of 'solid practical principles'.

While the storytelling in question may draw criticism for its perceived glorification of war and departure from classical war drama tropes, it offers thought-provoking elements that delve into deeper themes. The anime dares to question the necessity of violence as a means to achieve goals, challenging the protagonist's pacifist stance and exploring the profound consequences of colonisation on culture. In this regard, it presents a morally grey landscape that encourages viewers to ponder the practical principles and ethics guiding the characters' actions.

The narrative raises pertinent inquiries regarding the motivations behind warfare and the vested business interests at play. It underscores how war serves as a catalyst for the proliferation of weapons and resources, creating a lucrative ecosystem that satisfies the ambitions of profit-seeking individuals. The cycle of war drives the demand for more weapons and war-related resources, perpetuating a circle of commerce that brings satisfaction to greedy businessmen.

The anime also deserves credit for its skillful development of the side characters, especially the American military, most notably Captain Brad Watt. Through their portrayals, the anime conveys a significant message about the importance of nationalism and the quest for independence. It highlights the potential loss of Japanese culture in the absence of resistance against colonisation and emphasises how the destructive force of colonisation erodes cultural identities. The concept of 'cultural suicide' emerges during a conversation between Captain Brad and his comrade, where the captain, despite being an adversary to the Japanese nationalists, raises this point. This exchange not only serves as a commentary on anti-colonial nationalism but also helps create sympathetic antagonists, challenging the notion that every soldier is inherently driven by nationalist fervour.

One plot point that perplexes me is how the Americans managed to gather data and create simulations of MAILeS-type AMAIM from the incident at Yatagarasu's base. They had no direct involvement in the battle and were unaware of the terrorists' location prior to the attack, ruling out the possibility of espionage or having a mole within Yatagarasu. Although they eventually discovered the enemy's base after the sudden assault and arrived at the scene later, it was after Yatagarasu had supposedly destroyed evidence, and the Asian military had already cleared the area before the Americans. The notion that detailed data about the three giant robots was obtained solely through the captain's examination of the aftermath seems implausible to me. It feels forced and unconvincing, given the weak explanation provided.

Furthermore, the narrative includes infodumps that present crucial information and raises important questions that should have been addressed earlier in the story, such as the origins of Yatagarasu's MAILeS-type AMAIMs and i-LeS. These revelations contribute to the story's depth and draw attention to significant aspects that warrant earlier exploration. The anime could have integrated these details more seamlessly into the narrative to avoid the feeling of delayed exposition.

In terms of tone, AMAIM skillfully blends elements of gloominess with occasional childish humour. Characters like Gai, the AI 'Digimon', offer comic relief without undermining the serious nature of the anime. This contrast provides hope for the emotionally broken teenage protagonists who lack nurturing parents and emotional support. This balance of light-hearted moments with the darker themes adds layers to the characters' emotional journeys.

Visually, AMAIM skillfully portrays a post-apocalyptic landscape characterised by dilapidated cityscapes and war-torn environments. The deliberate use of contrasting colour palettes, with vibrant hues for the AMAIM machines juxtaposed against desaturated tones for the surroundings, reinforces the sense of a bleak and divided world. This visual dichotomy underscores the stark contrast between the advanced technology of the AMAIMs and the crumbling state of society, further emphasising the themes of hope versus despair and technological advancement versus societal decay.

The animation quality of the show avoids the common modern anime reliance on CGI, although it remains at an average level. While the character designs may not be excessively appealing, they are also not off-putting. One commendable aspect is that the girl in the team isn't sexually designed, and it's refreshing to see a respectable and modest female character design in a time when sexualised designs have become the norm in anime.

Additionally, the mecha designs effectively convey their respective attributes without relying on excessive plot explanations. For instance, you can easily discern the specialisation of the main three mecha robots through their shapes, weapons, and maneuvering. Kenbu is specialised in defense, featuring larger shields and a balanced offensive capability. On the other hand, Jogan is clearly designed for long-range combat, equipped with firearms, a sniper, and grenades. Finally, Reiki is purely offensive, exhibiting agility, speed, wings for flight, and a spear as its weapon.

Overall, AMAIM's journey was a mixed bag: a strong start, a weak middle, and a mediocre conclusion. AMAIM may not reach the pinnacle of excellence in the mecha genre, but hey, it is still better than most 2020s anime and far superior to the majority of modern anime offerings. Strong introduction, captivating world-building, and intense mecha battles. Then it drops into a shaky middle—pacing issues, characters on life support. The plot loses stream. Conclusion is mediocre, but it tries. Doesn't always deliver, but has flashes of brilliance on occasion. Ambitious themes, thought-provoking moments, and flashy mecha battles—a treat for mecha fans. Consider it, but keep your expectations in check!

Promise Cinderella presents an engaging yet problematic premise with its age gap romance at the forefront. The manga's strength lies in its ability to create well-rounded and relatable mature characters. Hayame Katsuragi, the 27-year-old protagonist, emerges as a resilient and courageous individual despite facing immense hardships. Her transformation from a housewife to a homeless divorcee adds depth to her character. Similarly, Issei, the 17-year-old male lead, starts as a spoiled rich boy but matures through his interactions with Hayame.

One of the central themes explored in Promise Cinderella revolves around individuals who have experienced failure in life and grapple with self-esteem issues, often leading to self-destructive ... tendencies. The manga delves into the psychological and emotional struggles faced by such individuals, emphasising their inclination to distance themselves from family and friends due to feelings of burden and guilt. They believe their mere existence would only bring harm to those close to them.

This theme finds resonance in the backgrounds of both Hayame and Issei, the two main characters of the manga; Hayame's father plays a crucial role in the manga by depicting his detachment from her, intensifying her emotional struggles and deepening her sense of inadequacy and self-doubt. Hayame's father is depicted as a key character in the story, who distanced himself from Hayame, his daughter. This poignant portrayal of the unfortunate parental disconnection emphasises the toll it takes on Hayame's self-esteem and emotional well-being, leading her to distance herself from others as well due to the absence of a nurturing and supportive father figure. Consequently, the manga delves into the profound impact that familial disconnection can have on an individual's life.

Amidst Hayame's initially content life as a 27-year-old housewife, circumstances take a drastic turn, resulting in her divorce and homelessness. The manga captures her descent into despair, vividly illustrating the self-destructive behavior she exhibits in response to her failures. Through Hayame's struggles, the series highlights the detrimental effects of failure on one's self-esteem. This exploration serves as a reminder of the challenges individuals face when confronted with personal setbacks and the toll it can take on their overall well-being.

Similarly, Issei, the 17-year-old male lead, comes from a privileged background as a spoiled rich boy. However, his experiences with Hayame and their shared hardships prompt him to confront his own issues of self-esteem and familial disconnection. Issei's mother, like Hayame's father, has distanced herself from him, adding to his emotional turmoil. Through the characters of Hayame and Issei, Promise Cinderella sheds light on the common struggles faced by individuals who have experienced parental figures distancing themselves, compounding their feelings of inadequacy and guilt.

Throughout the series, both Hayame and Issei undergo personal growth, gradually learning to confront their insecurities and re-establish connections with their loved ones. Their journeys serve as a poignant reminder that even in the face of failure and despair, it is possible to rebuild self-esteem and find solace through genuine human connections.

By exploring the theme of self-esteem and familial disconnection, Promise Cinderella offers a relatable portrayal of the struggles faced by individuals who feel burdened by their own existence. It encourages readers to reflect on the impact of their own actions and emotions, urging empathy and understanding for those who may be battling similar issues. This thematic exploration adds depth and emotional resonance to the narrative, making Promise Cinderella a thought-provoking manga that goes beyond a simple romantic dramedy.

However, the manga's narrative occasionally succumbs to unnecessary drama and an overabundance of antagonistic characters. This excess dilutes the story's realism and impact, stretching the boundaries of believability. While conflict is essential for driving the plot forward or generating tension, an excessive number of antagonists can hinder character development and overshadow the central themes. By introducing numerous villainous characters, the manga loses some of its authenticity and compromises its potential for a more nuanced exploration of interpersonal relationships.

The rushed ending of Promise Cinderella is a significant drawback. In the final volume, the author draws attention to unresolved problems, such as Hayame's strained relationship with her father, but fails to provide satisfactory resolutions. The conclusion feels like a cop-out, leaving readers hanging and relying on hope and wishful thinking for the characters' future. The final volume's brevity adds to the disappointment, suggesting that the manga may have been axed. As a result, the author resorts to time skips to tie up loose ends and deliver a rushed conclusion.

On a positive note, the visual aspect of Promise Cinderella is a notable highlight. The manga's artwork is vibrant, detailed, and the character designs were visually appealing. The illustrations effectively convey the characters' emotions, capturing their struggles and joys with finesse.

Promise Cinderella excels in crafting well-rounded characters, tackling social issues, and showcasing captivating artwork. The growth of Hayame and Issei throughout the series provides emotional depth, and their shared experiences resonate with readers on a profound level. However, the manga falters in its execution due to an excess of unnecessary drama and antagonistic characters. The rushed ending further diminishes the impact by leaving crucial plot points unresolved, relying on hope and wishful thinking rather than providing concrete resolutions. Additionally, the brevity of the final volume and the premature conclusion suggests a possible cancellation, resulting in a reliance on time skips. Despite these shortcomings, Promise Cinderella manages to be an above-average romantic dramedy, reminding readers of the importance of personal growth and human connections, while leaving room for improvement in its narrative execution.