Archive for the Eleanor W Category


Momentary Lily Okazu Staff Review

January 15th, 2025

Colorful image of tables in a restaurant, with six girls colorfully dressed, eating and drinking, and smiling with banality.It appears that Okazu Staff huddle together when they encounter a trashfire in media, so once again, we are here to debrief and detox.

Today we are gathered together to memorialize our sanity, lost via Momentary Lily, streaming on Crunchyroll.

 

 

 

Christian LeBlanc

My first impression of the new GoHands joint was that it felt like being grabbed by the shoulders and shaken violently by someone vomiting glitter everywhere. And this is coming from someone who generally enjoys GoHands’ output, in defiance of people who point out the flaws in their animation.
 
Admittedly, I’m not particularly literate in cinema, and so online discussions will often illustrate to me why a scene in a movie works as well as it does. Likewise, people online can point out how GoHands is using an ambitious camera angle or perspective in the wrong place, but I may not always notice something’s off, and simply enjoy seeing the camerawork go absolutely ham for someone walking up a flight of stairs. And why not? Anime is generally exaggerated anyway, right?
 
Well, let me explain in terms of music. Momentary Lily is like a slow ballad where someone starts shredding on their axe like crazy halfway through the first verse. Yes, it’s an impressively face-melting, blisteringly-fast guitar solo, but what is it doing after a line and a half of lyrics? Some people will be open-minded enough to simply enjoy the guitar solo, and won’t be bothered by how out of place it is. Conversely, some listeners won’t understand why the gentle singing was interrupted by a piece of music from a seemingly different tune, and will be taken out of the song because it’s so jarring and distracting.
 
My colleagues will expand on how all the different elements of this show make it less than the sum of its parts, but let me pass the baton with this: one character’s death lacks gravitas because we haven’t gotten to know them well enough over two episodes, while another girl’s breasts defy gravitas even as she’s sobbing over her impending doom. Please learn to read the room, Erika Koudaji’s breasts.
 

Eleanor Walker

I watched this while nursing a tremendous hangover and I’m genuinely not sure if it improved the experience or not. The main thing going through my mind was “she breasted boobily” every time a certain character was on the screen. I still don’t know why these collection of walking stereotypes, sorry, characters are doing what they’re doing, what the “Wild Hunt” is and where they’re getting the ingredients for the random cooking segments. It’s like one staffer wanted to make a cute girls doing cute things cooking show and another wanted to make a monster fighting explosion show and the studio just shrugged and said “eh, whatever, we can only afford to animate one pair of breasts so work together”. The voices are particularly grating, I’m not generally one who notices particularly bad voice acting, especially in Japanese (I didn’t notice Hideaki Anno in The Wind Rises, for example, which was widely complained about online) but dearie me the voices in this one make me want to gouge my eardrums out with a melon baller.

 

Erica Friedman

This project is infamously animated by GoHands, a group that takes their work as animators VERY seriously, as everything in this anime moves, constantly. Even things that do not actually ever move.

In a post-apocalyptic world in which humans have been hunted by “The Wild Hunt” – over-animated kaijuu – a girl with a mysterious ability to call up a magical, science fiction-y, mega weapon finds a small group of other teenage girls with similar abilities.  Whether you consider these girls to be special forces, or refugees or just plain child soldiers, don’t worry about the details…their misery and trauma will be mined for laughs and pathos and boob jiggles. And cooking lessons, so even at the end of the world, we can make a nice meal of rice and canned mackerel. We got to get our priorities straight.

As for the service – to quote the great Pamela Poovey, “Inappropes.”

Grab a Dramamine and watch Momentary Lily, with a cast of girls with verbal tics that stand in for a personality.

 

Frank Hecker

Fans of the anime Shirobako may recall a scene in which two animators are discussing a new technique for making reflections off eyeglasses look more realistic, followed by a shot of one person’s glasses illustrating that very technique. Watching Momentary Lily is like watching that scene on infinite repeat, but without the self-reflexive humor. After viewing the first couple of minutes of episode 1 in the conventional way, I turned the sound and subtitles off so I could appreciate Momentary Lily for what it really is, a SIGGRAPH demo with fighting girls. (I originally wrote “magical girls,” but they don’t have transformation sequences—more’s the pity.)

Watching the show this way helps make sense of some of the shot and plot choices. Why does one of the girls show off her moisturizing regimen in the first scene? So that we can see how well GoHands can model shiny skin (presumably using Phong shading or some more recent technique). Why do the girls take a break from fighting monsters to have a meal? So that the animators can take a break from animating kaijū and relax themselves, modeling various foods, plastic packages, tin cans, utensils, and so on. (They even show a cousin of the famous Utah teapot.) And most notably: why does the girls’ hair fly around so much? It’s simultaneously a plea to the production committee and a boast to the viewer: “If we had a bigger budget, we could animate every hair.”

I guess there’s a story here somewhere and presumably some attempts at characterization, but really the girls are to GoHands what the Madonna and child and other Biblical scenes were to Renaissance painters, a conventional set of stock images used to demonstrate mastery of their craft. (My using the word “craft” and not “art” is deliberate; there is little art here.) Watching Momentary Lily like I did highlights those demonstrations: the omnipresent lens flare that shifts position depending on which way the light is coming from, the focus pulling and bokeh, the way the clouds constantly moving across the sky are reflected in the windows of the buildings in the background. For me, the emotional climax of episode 2 was not the foreground scene of a girl in extremis, but rather the background shot of a tree with all its leaves rippling in the wind.

I especially loved the shots of buildings shown in dramatic perspective, whether during the day or at night, viewed clearly or enshrouded in fog. Which brings me to my recommendation to GoHands: forget plot, character, and dialogue. Ditch the monsters, include more scenes with buildings and benches, erase the girls from every shot, and create what the world has been waiting for: a true masterpiece of “yuri of absence.”

 

Luce

Well that sure was an eye workout. Ow.

Setting aside the camera for now, this is distinctly mediocre. Sci-fi and post-apocalypse isn’t my thing, but this wouldn’t sell me. The five characters we see initially are unmemorable, apart from ‘onee-chan’ with the big bouncing boobs that are totally unnecessary and look like they’re about to float her off to space. (One character says ‘too much jiggle’. Don’t call it out and flaunt it at the same time.) Renge, the ‘main’ character, is screechy, then apologising for the weirdest things, like ‘imposing’ on the group with a awkwardly cut cooking ‘segment’, as they refer to it. Wow, she’s amnesiac, has a cool weapon and can one shot the big robots. Great, sure sounds like a plot thread right there. Too bad I’m not interested.

Sadly, even if I was interested, watching this feels like an attack on the optic nerve. Aside from over-animated hair and one set of boobs, the animation is middling, but not awful. But it’s like someone heard ‘dynamic camera angles’ and decided this meant ‘camera must move every two seconds’. It’s at odd angles, or moving, but in really jarring ways that almost follow characters but not quite. There’s more lens flares than Star Trek. And what is with the split screens?!

If you have a tendency to migraines, or any visually triggered illnesses, avoid this. I promise it’s not worth it. I’m off to have a lie down.

 

Matt Marcus

When my friend and cohost Sibyl sent me the trailer for Momentary Lily, my first thought was “someone must really like RWBY.” As the announcement began circulating in my online spaces, I had only seen dismissive, but not illuminating, comments about the studio that made it. It wasn’t on my radar, but between my friend’s excitement and the reactions from the folks in the Discord after episode 1 dropped, I figured I would give it a shot.

Y’all, I was not prepared.

I could go on about the visually chaotic and cacophonous opening, but that’s just where it begins. From opening to ending, watching Momentary Lily is like reading one of those giant posts of text with three emojis after every sentence, but also the font is Wingdings.

The script feels like it was written by ChatGPT trained using the dialogue of every lady-led shonen show, but dumber. There’s the gamer girl who chugs energy drinks and calls them her “buffs” in every sentence she speaks. There’s the chipper leader with a verbal tic. There’s the serious dark-haired girl with glasses with a verbal tic. There’s the “big sister” archetype with absurd breast physics. There’s the gyaru girl. And, of course, we have the overpowered amnesiac lead who is so obscenely shy that half her dialogue is in pantomime. The characterization is so thin I’m surprised that their models are not literally transparent.

But we’re not here for deep ruminations on the human soul, are we? No, we’re here to see some overly-stylized teenagers do some high-flying ass-kicking! So that part must be good right? I got bad news for you: the action is messy, hard to follow, and extremely headache inducing. The characters don’t match the garish, hyper-saturated 3D backgrounds in both visual style and, worse, in framerate. Even in shots where the background isn’t moving as if the camera is being controlled by a drunk crane operator, the point of view zooms in and out and bounces around like a nap-skipping toddler on caffeine. It’s as if GoHands was afraid that if they didn’t jangle every key in front of our face for the entire scene, we’d lose interest mid-sword swing.

But beyond all that, the biggest sin is the pacing. Characters only have space to do schtick between the barest of exposition. Tone shifts rapidly from “badass” action to cutesy cooking segments where Amnesia Girl shows her new pals how to make otaku struggle meals. (Each episode is named for the dish said girl makes, so I guess this was The Thing GoHands decided the show should be About.) Scenes are smashed together with no sense of time passing. A character is killed in episode 2, and the previews of the next episode suggest that the show is going to tell us why we should’ve cared about this girl in the first place. It’s jarring and exhausting and boring at the same time.

And don’t get me started on the worldbuilding. Almost every human on earth has been vaporized yet social media still functions! Can’t wait for the plot to hinge on the crew posting their 7-Eleven survivalist stews on the ‘Gram. GOD this sucks.

The thing that strikes me the most about the show is that there is clearly effort and skill on display, and yet it is applied in the most artless way I have ever seen. It’s fascinating in that way: a show ostensibly about cooking that lacks taste. For all the “flavor” tossed in, this is very thin gruel.

Ratings:

Story – eh
Characters – verbal tics and trauma
Animation – LOL
Service – too much jiggle
Yuri – no thank you

Overall – canned fish





Handsome Girl and Sheltered Girl: The Complete Manga Collection

November 6th, 2024

An androgynous woman lights a cigarette, while a flustered woman looks on taking a picture with her phone.by Eleanor Walker, Okazu Staff Writer

When Okuma Satomi’s friend seeks her help wrangling guys for a crossdressing cafe, Satomi winds up with a boyfriend! Sort of. After asking her handsome and aloof classmate, Kanda Mizuki, to help out in the cafe, Mizuki agrees, but on one condition: the two of them must go on a date. Satomi eagerly agrees, delighted to have such a good-looking guy interested in her, but Mizuki realizes that Satomi has completely misunderstood something crucial: Mizuki is a girl!

Will this case of mistaken identity blossom into something beautiful, or will the truth leave both girls brokenhearted in Handsome Girl and Sheltered Girl?

I’m a big fan of handsome/prince types in my yuri manga, so I was very much looking forward to this one.

This release combines both the original Japanese volumes into 1 omnibus English edition, and I have to say I enjoyed the second half much more than the first. The first half is mostly them getting to know each other, and a few awkward misunderstandings where Mizuki tries to stop Satomi discovering she’s a girl, whereas the second half has them actually confronting their feelings for each other and Mizuki telling Satomi she’s really a girl. For something described by the publisher as “light hearted”, I found it to be surprisingly sincere and accepting. I get the feeling that if this had been published a decade or so ago, the other characters might not have been so accepting of Mizuki’s cross dressing and tricking Satomi into thinking she’s a guy. As it is, Mizuki’s friends encourage her to tell the truth and promise to support her, as do Satomi’s friends when she tells them later on that Mizuki is a girl and they are still dating.

When Mizuki finally tells Satomi she’s a girl, Satomi doesn’t believe her at first, which conveniently leads us to a bath scene where she can confirm this revelation and oh boy does the service start from this point. The two of them finally admit their attraction to each other, regardless of gender and we all live happily ever after, apart from a few classic misunderstandings along the way.

Overall, I enjoyed this series and I would recommend it, but the pacing could definitely use some work. As is, it’s too slow in the beginning and too fast towards the end.

Ratings:

Art – 7. Nothing spectacular but the artist can at least draw naked bodies pretty well.
Story – 7. More heartwarming than you might expect for a goofy cross dressing/misunderstanding premise.
Characters – 7. Mizuki understandably feels bad about tricking Satomi.
Service – 8. Full frontal nudity with censoring down below. I’m legitimately surprised 7S rated this 13+.
Yuri – 7. Two women showing us that love can transcend gender.

Overall – 7. If the first half had been a bit shorter and the last few chapters had felt less rushed this would’ve been an 8. Especially recommended if you like this specific set of tropes.





My First Love’s Kiss, Volume 1

September 25th, 2024

On a rocky shore, two girls in Japanese school uniforms with dark skirts and white sailor-style uniform tops stand. One, with long dark hair, is a distance away. Closer to us is a blonde who looks over right shoulder at us.

by Eleanor Walker, Staff Writer

Content warning: Underage sex work is a prominent theme of this book, although nothing is explicitly described. There is also violence.

My First Love’s Kiss is the newest English release from Hitoma Iruma, who authored the Saeki Sayaka novel spinoff of Bloom into You, and Adachi and Shimamura. Illustrations are by fly, whose work has also appeared in Chasing After Aoi Koshiba, and various yuri anthologies.

My first introduction to Iruma-sensei’s work was reading the Saeki Sayaka spinoff novels of Bloom Into You, and having subsequently read most of Adachi and Shimamura, and now the first volume of this series, I have come to the conclusion that his works are much more enjoyable when he’s writing about someone else’s characters instead of his own.

The author’s own afterword says that this is planned to be a 3 volume series, and this volume almost reads like a prequel, setting up the characters and story but without much actually happening. Some research while writing this review indicates that this series is set in the same universe as Adachi and Shimamura and stars Shimamura’s former senpai. Hino and Nagafuji also appear as supporting characters. However, I had no idea about this going into the book, and the cover just says “From the author of Adachi and Shimamura” with no indication that the two series are linked. Perhaps it’s because the Adachi and Shimamura novel series is released in English by Seven Seas, whereas this is a Yen On release, but I feel that’s some important context which is missing.

As for the story itself, I’m not really sure what’s going on here. The first chapter is told from Takasora’s point of view. She and her mother live in a small apartment, and the novel opens up with “surprise, here’s my friend and her daughter, they’re going to be living with us for a while” Understandably, Takasora is not too impressed with having to share her already small bedroom with this new interloper and losing her only private space. At first they agree to ignore each other, but Takasora wonders where her new roommate is going late at night.

The second chapter is told from Takasora’s new roommate, Umi’s, point of view. Umi and her mother have clearly not had an easy life, couchsurfing is all she knows, and she finds herself involved with an older woman, Chiki, who is willing to pay her for companionship. Much of this chapter is a flashback telling the story of Chiki and Umi so far.

The third and final chapter alternates points of view, and Takasora confronts Umi about what she’s doing at night. Encouraged by Umi’s mother, for some unknown reason, Takasora follows Umi to see what she’s getting up to and overhears her confessing her love to Chiki and her wish to start dating without money involved, which they do. Maybe I’m just missing something, but I don’t understand how Takasora has gone from barely tolerating Umi at the beginning to now having an unrequited crush on her by the end of the book.

Ratings:

Art – 6. I enjoy Fly’s art style but the illustrations in this book are very samey. Even the cover illustration is repeated twice in the colour page section at the beginning of the book.
Story – 5. All setup, no substance. Hopefully it’ll improve in the next volume.
Characters – 5. Especially without knowing the link to Adachi and Shimamura, I found the characters rather flat.
Service – I don’t feel comfortable rating underage sex work as service.
Yuri – 4 . There are women/girls in relationships.

Overall – 5 . I’ll probably finish the series if it’s only 3 volumes, but I’m glad it was on offer when I bought it on a whim in the shop.





I Want To Be A Wall, Volumes 1-3

August 4th, 2024

by Eleanor Walker, Staff Writer

I Want To Be A Wall explores the fake marriage between Gakurouta, a closeted gay man with an unrequited crush on his childhood friend, and Yuriko, an asexual woman who’s a big BL fangirl. Can this odd couple find something in this unconventional relationship?

Volume 1 opens up with Yuriko and Gakurouta entering their new life as newlyweds and figuring out living together as a married couple. In an attempt to understand his new wife’s hobby, Gakurota starts exploring Yuriko’s BL collection, much to her embarassment. Our odd couple though, are better at communication than a lot of other married couples, and state their boundaries in a healthy way to each other. We then hear the stories of their respective childhoods and the origins of Gakurouta’s crush on his childhood friend Sousuke.

Volume 2 tells us the story of how our odd couple first met. Both sides were pressured into finding partners by their respective families, (arranged marriages are still relatively common in Japan compared to the West). The two of them get to know each other, gradually find themselves more comfortable with and opening up to each other, then Gakurouta proposes the marriage of convenience to Yuriko. The rest of the volume is devoted to them getting to know each other a little more, figuring out how to live together and going on a pilgrimage together to visit a limited exhibition of one of Yuriko’s favourite manga. The two of them are clearly happy with each other, but since that happiness isn’t conventional, is it real to anyone else in the story?

Volume 3 takes us to Gakurouta’s grandmother’s house (she raised him), Yuriko meeting her for the first time and the elephant in the room, grandchildren, comes up once again. It’s this volume which really asks the big questions, and challenges the assumption that a conventional heterosexual marriage and kids are the instant and only key to happiness.  One bit I really didn’t like about the series is the surprise introduction of Sousuke’s girlfriend at the end of the previous volume. I felt she created unnecessary and over the top drama which didn’t fit with the tone of the series. Other conflicts which come up, like the risk of Grandmother finding out that the marriage is fake seem much more plausible and fit into the story better.

Overall, this series is a good reminder that just because a relationship isn’t conventional, doesn’t mean it’s not happy. Everyone’s definition of happiness is different, and maybe society would do well to remember that rather than persecute those who live their lives outwith the expected social norms.

“What’s the point in having a system where people who actually need a marriage can’t have one?” It’s also great to see more positive asexual representation out there. At just 3 volumes, it’s a worthwhile addition to your queer manga collection.

Ratings:

Art – 6. Some faces and perspectives are a bit off, but not enough to detract from enjoying the story.
Story – 8  It’s enjoyable to see them care for each other in their own way, and a nice reminder that “normal” isn’t always best.
Characters – 7  All lovely except Sousuke’s girlfriend who just felt overly fake and melodramatic.
Service – Non existent
LGBTQ+ – 10. Two people who don’t fit into conventional society supporting and caring for each other as best they can.

Overall – 8





Pulse, Volumes 5-7

June 23rd, 2024

by Eleanor Walker, Staff Writer.

Content warning: Volume 6 contains scenes of sexual assault.

A blonde with long hair in an orange dress and a long dark-haired woman wearing a beige top embrace happily.

Remember when I said back in my review of the first two volumes “does this hospital not have an ethics board?” Never did I predict this statement would come back to bite the way in the way that it has.  The hospital director, who we met at the end of volume 4 is cunning, ruthless and will stop at nothing to get what she wants, which is Mel. They have history together (they are ex girlfriends), and thanks to something Mel did which is never explicitly discussed, although it is covered in flashbacks, she cannot use her hands properly and had to give up being a surgeon. She is quite clearly a sociopath who only sees people as tools to be used and thrown away once she’s finished with them.

Back to Lynn and Mel. At the end of volume 1, they made a bet “If I can get you to fall in love with me within 2 years, will you be the one to operate on me?” It’s now time to call that bet in, or is it? Volume 5 sees Lynn’s condition getting worse, she’s back in the hospital and been moved to the top of the transplant list. But the director steps in, and the donor heart is sent elsewhere. Coincidence? I don’t think so. Lynn has to have another operation to place a device in her heart to squeeze out some more time while waiting for the transplant, and the director bursts into the operating theatre mid surgery and orders Mel to leave the room immediately.

 

A blonde and a dark-haired woman share an intimate moment, as the blonde takes the other woman's glasses off, as she sits on the floor next to a bed.

Because of the situation Mel finds herself in, in volume 6, Lynn overhears some of the other staff talking, concludes that this is all her fault and it would be best to break up with Mel so she doesn’t lose her career. It’s the least convincing breakup ever, but I’m pleased to report that they eventually find their way back to each other via all your favourite cliches, including a reunion at the airport, as is obvious from the frankly adorable cover of Volume 7.

Lynn finally gets a new heart, the director gets her long awaited and well deserved comeuppance, and they all live happily ever after. How far we’ve come from the stone cold woman who doesn’t believe in love, and the journey has absolutely been worth it. I’ll certainly be reading again from the beginning, and at 7 volumes the story is a nice length without dragging itself out too much.

 

 

 

A blonde in a wedding dress and a dark-haired woman in a wedding suit smile at one another happily.

Lynn and Mel continue to be the main attraction of the series, and although you do want to tell them to just talk to each other sometimes, we wouldn’t have a story otherwise. Olivia also deserves a lot of credit for being brave enough to stand up for what she thinks is right.

The art is as attractive as ever, and the erotic scenes are well crafted without leaving much to the imagination. Seven Seas have once again done a lovely job of designing the covers, and the interior printing is of good quality with clean lines.

Hot off the press, Thailand is expected to legalise same sex marriage by the end of the year.

 

Ratings:

Art: 8. As charming as it’s ever been.

Story: 8. Enough twists and turns to keep you guessing and even thinking the unthinkable. The side story with Mel and Crystal at school is also very fun.

Service: 10. Graphic depictions of sex with very little left to the imagination, as always. Also, Mel in a suit.

Characters: 9. Olivia, thank you for doing the right thing.

Yuri: 9.

Overall: 9. As I said for the first two volumes, if you’re looking for something with adult characters and a decent bit of spice which isn’t just porn, you could do a lot worse than Pulse. These later volumes up the drama but if spice is your main thing, you won’t be disappointed.