Welcome to Guest Review Wednesday here on Okazu. Always one of my favorite days, as you know.  Today I am so very pleased to welcome back Guest Reviewer Mariko S. with a terrific perspective on an anime I wouldn’t touch with a 10 meter disinfected pole. ^_^ So let’s get right to it, please give Mariko a warm welcome back and praise in the comments!

Years ago on the Onion AVClub site, Nathan Rabin wrote a column called “My Year of Flops,” where he revisited and reviewed movies that failed at the box office for one reason or another. At the end of each review he categorized the movie he’d just talked about as one of three things: Failure, Fiasco, or Secret Success. I’m sure that the “Secret Successes” brought some pleasure to unearth, and the “Failures” were easy enough to talk about. But you always got the impression that the “Fiascos” were the ones he really relished the chance to dissect. It’s easy but boring to trash a truly terrible work of entertainment; it’s much more fun to try to figure out what happened with a hot mess of good and bad ideas mashed together in ways that don’t really work, but are nevertheless fascinating.

Today I want to tell you a little bit about the utter fiasco that is Magical Girl Spec-Ops Asuka.

The latest in the post-Madoka trend of “gritty,” “grim” magical girl series, MGSOA begins with an interesting setup: the war is already over. A few years ago, an invading army from an evil parallel universe called the Disas attempted to destroy the earth with magical power, against which humanity had no defense. However, a friendly spirit realm reached out to aid us, and provided the mechanism to allow the creation of magical girls – teenage girls with a special affinity for magic who could be imbued with it to battle the Disas. In the end, they defeated the enemy leader and won the war, but at terrible cost to both humanity and the ranks of the girls drafted into the fight – of the 11 who began the battle, only the lauded Final 5 returned. But of course, in reality, beating the bad guy doesn’t create world peace – so now the girls and the world are adjusting to the new normal of dealing with magical problems in addition to more mundane types of crime and war.

The biggest thing I have to give this show credit for is, I never knew what was going to happen next. With its frankly astounding mashup of tropes, fetishes, and screeching plot turns, even up to the last episode I could have equally seen it ending with the brutal murder of half the characters we know, or with a healing miracle and a love confession. It definitely wasn’t generally a comfortable feeling, but it is a rare one with how formulaic anime can be. The show also devotes a surprising amount of screen time to interesting exploration of ideas like dealing with PTSD, the warping effects of bullying, the ways that being caught in the crossfire of a magical girl battle would actually affect people, and the crushing burden of being The Only One Who Can Save Us at such a vulnerable age. I also really liked the juxtaposition of the stereotypical cutesy MOTD baddies and cuddly animal sidekicks (each replete with its own unique sentence-ending affect) and the more realistic imagining of strategizing against them and the consequences of the fights.

Oh, but the bad is there. And it’s so, so bad. I guess they thought that the violence and genre twist weren’t enough to entice potential viewers, so they decided to throw in the kitchen sink of anime fetishes, too. Are all of the magical girls improbably busty, even though they’re technically supposed to have been in middle school when they started fighting? Yep! Does the magical combat division of the JSDF run a maid cafe as their cover for some reason? Of course! Can we somehow shoehorn in trips to the pool and the beach for the flimsiest reasons? You betcha! Add to that the occasional torture and domestic violence, and there was often a whiplash inducing effect as the show swung from slice-of-life cheesecake to affecting emotional drama to exploitative violence from scene to scene. Thankfully, the show never pushed things into outright nihilism, as many of the vogue grimdark series are so guilty of. The biggest problem I had with the show was its overreliance on the villains basically being omniscient – no matter what the heroes planned or did, the villains basically deadpanned that this is exactly what they expected and it played right into their hands. It got old to have so little nuance and no back and forth – the villains basically just always won until it was time for them not to.

As for Yuri, it’s present but not a major focus. Many of the female characters show attraction to Asuka, but in particular her best friend and fellow magical girl (War Nurse) Kurumi is deeply infatuated with her. Kurumi’s in many ways unhealthy attachment to Asuka as the one who saved her from her life as a doormat for bullies is played throughout the show for both pathos and laughs. Toward the end of the series, we find out that the former leader of the magical girl team made a lot of sex jokes about the other members, if you want to count that. Also, the General of the good spirit world, taking the form of (of course) a beautiful, busty woman, is apparently *really* fond of her magical girls and tries to cajole them into lewd things when they reunite. And in a very brief scene we find out that the illegal magical girl, Abigail, who so lovingly spoke of the series’ masked antagonist as her “Queen,” has a physical relationship with said queen.

On the technical side, in general this is not a particularly well-animated show. Characters are rarely on model and the animation tends to be stiff and focused on moving as few parts as possible (ideally just mouths). They clearly were trying to save as much money as possible for the action scenes, which in general were pretty well done. The opening and ending songs were nice, and the eyecatch military staccato felt appropriate, but otherwise the soundtrack was fairly forgettable/unobtrusive (depending on your perspective).

So, back to that fiasco thing – sometimes the show takes its characters seriously, and explores their emotions in ways beyond what most shows would. Other times it turns them into an eroge caricature. Sometimes it gets meditative about war and violence and the consequences of thrusting tremendous fighting power onto someone so immature, then banks into a boob joke. It’s fitting, then, that the show ends on a question mark instead of an exclamation point. I can’t really recommend it, but I also can’t really dissuade you either. It’s compelling in its own way – if you can abide the fetishes and find the smart things it wants to talk about interesting, give it a shot. If you take a pass, I also think that’s a perfectly reasonable choice. Truly, YMMV.

Ratings:

Art – 5 I liked the character designs but the animation itself was sub-par.
Story – 7 A nice twist on the familiar with some trenchant takes on interesting topics that gets bogged down by the fetish elements.
Characters – 6 Asuka and Kurumi are given some nice layers, but most everyone else is a little underwritten. +1 for Sacchu, the heroes’ mascot, who is pretty awesome.
Yuri – 3
Service – 7

Overall – 5

Erica here: Well, thank you very much , Mariko for another fab review! Sometimes, I think my Guest Reviewers ought to get hazard pay as you all take on the stuff I don’t want to. ^_^

Welcome once more to Guest Review Wednesday on Okazu! Today I have the pleasure of welcoming back Guest Reviewer Mariko S with a most entertaining review. I won’t take up her time here, so handing the mic over to you, Mariko …

Jabami Yumeko loves gambling. No, you don’t get it. I mean, she REALLY loves gambling. … I’m still not saying this right, I think. Jabami Yumeko REALLY. *LOVES.* GAMBLING.

There, that about sums up Kakegurui.

Wait, come back! There must be a reason why I’m talking about this odd, wonderful, terrible, exciting, formulaic, gorgeously ugly series for Okazu, right?

Sometime last year, Netflix decided to start throwing some money at the anime subculture (a departure from their previous haphazard acquisition of “whatever crappy dubs some bulk rightsholding company batches together with other throwaway filler content”), and began licensing or directly funding a couple of series per season. Whether this is a good thing is a topic best left to others to debate, but so far it seems they are aiming for projects with at least a little edge to them (or, in the case of “Devilman Crybaby,” a Ginsu knife of rococo craziness) that explicitly target a more mature audience and benefit from the less-restrictive content rules at the streaming giant. The kind of thing that, back in the earlier days of anime fandom, would be exactly what people would imagine when they found out you liked “those crazy Japanese cartoons.” Something to note is that the series Netflix sponsors get released all at once when Netflix decides to put them out, not based on the typical “season” schedule, so it’s harder to keep track of what they’re releasing and when. Anyway, fire up those login creds and let’s get started.

I may have mentioned once or twice that I’m a bit burned out on “Story A.” Particularly “Story A” where a moe-faced sugar blob enters a fairyland private school populated by other archetypal moe-faced sugar blobs, meets one extra-special blobface, and nothing much happens until they kiss (or not). So I’m always on the hunt for a bluebird that looks like it has Yuri potential from an unexpected angle. Thanks to Netflix’ “unusual” production and release philosophy, I found out about “Kakegurui” (“Compulsive/Crazy Gambling”) in sudden fashion. But the right words were being bandied about for my interest: “bold, crazy, original, queer.” There were rumblings that, although the outline sounded like a setup for some standard harem-show, it went right angle to that in ways that sounded fun and empowering and definitely kinda Yuri in a good way.

So, enough setup. After a nutty cold open that establishes the situation of our Bland Male Self-Insert Protagonist, Ryota, the OP theme already starts to portend good things for us as Yuri fans. It was done by Sayo Yamamoto, who has directed artistically-beloved openings for many shows, including “Yuri! On Ice.” It’s dripping with style and sexiness, as our yet-to-be-met heroine literally feasts on or toys with the many girls in her orbit. Cut to her unveiling in the show proper – of course she is a New Transfer Student. She seems to be a vision of the typical Nadeshiko beauty, with long black hair and sharp bangs, and a polite, kind way of speaking. We’re introduced in whirlwind fashion to the workings of the school: pretty much everyone there comes from wealthy and powerful families, and, as such, high-stakes gambling is the pastime of choice and determines all of your social worth at the school. The (of course all-powerful) student council posts regular ranking updates of each student’s gambling worth, and if you are unlucky enough to fall in the bottom 100 you are known as a “class pet” and are treated as basically a slave. This classroom’s top dog, Saotome Mary, immediately sets up to lure in the fresh meat for a kill and gets Yumeko to agree to gamble. Over the course of their match, the true layers beneath Yumeko’s proper exterior are revealed. She expertly dissects Mary’s game and her attempt to cheat for the win, and as the tides of power shift more and more into Yumeko’s favor she becomes slightly unhinged, working herself into a frothing, screaming display of gambling lust. When she leaves Mary utterly bankrupt just before the rankings come out, and cheerfully notes that now that they have gambled together they are friends, we definitely understand that Yumeko Is Not Normal.

Just how special Yumeko is, and in what way is the fascinating subject of the rest of the series, which did thankfully get renewed for a second season. The show is set up in classic sports anime style, with Yumeko continuing on to face more challengers of an ever-increasing level of surreal skill from the Student Council in bizarre gambling contests for massive stakes beyond just money. Of course it all culminates in a showdown with the student council president for all the marbles – in this case, expulsion from the gambling paradise of the school.

Some of the interesting things going on here:

1. This show is so refreshingly not-moe. In fact, it can be downright ugly, as the participants sweat, spit, snot, contort, and grimace in joy and agony. All emotions are writ large upon their faces. And although the female character designs are attractive, there are very few instances where they are drawn in an explicitly sexualized way (the ending theme being a forgivable exception). Everyone keeps their clothes on and the camera stays at respectful angles. The fanservice here is all about the gambling.

2. Yumeko’s power derives not from her prodigiously supernatural gambling talents. Those are useful (her ability to discern elaborate cheats, to mathematically dominate games of chance, to strategize in circles around her opponents), but her real power comes from the purity of her desires. She doesn’t care about winning money – money is just a means for her to gamble more easily. She’s not out to deliberately fight the unjust systems of the school, to help the downtrodden or defeat the student council or anything so noble. She just wants the chance to gamble – not to beat her opponent, mind you, which she can easily do. What she wants is more existential – to set the tables so that in the end, the fate of the participants is up to true chance. This is the real reason she takes down cheaters – for sullying the sanctity of the gamble. Similarly, it’s not a masochistic exercise – she doesn’t do it as a daredevil activity, to teeter to the brink of devastation. But rather, in her mind, to enjoy the moment of connection with the opponent as each side has maneuvered as best it can in preparation for the pure chance of the decisive draw, roll, or spin.

3. It’s frankly hilarious how irrelevant Ryota is. I read another review that smartly pointed out that, in most similar shows, despite having no special abilities he would be “The One” for Reasons, and he would be collecting fawning girls along the way as he racked up victories to take down the big bad student council. Instead, this is Yumeko’s show. In fact, you barely hear from Ryota outside of his narration most of the time. A running joke is the ways that other characters will just step into frame in front of him as he’s trying to say something and completely change the subject. This is Yumeko’s world, and he’s just along for the ride. And again, Yumeko’s goal isn’t exactly “winning,” which makes for a more interesting ride in a formulaic show than if that were the only stakes.

Which brings me to the question that of course you are asking, “What about the Yuri?”

First off, this isn’t a show with a lot of interest in romantic relationships. I saw elsewhere Yumeko described as “risk-sexual,” which is pretty apt. That said, while she doesn’t show any physical interest in Ryota or any of the male gambling opponents that she faces, it’s a different story for the girls. In the throes of her gambling ecstasies, Yumeko gets *very* up close and personal with her female opponents. As the gambling intensifies, she often plays a kind of Mephistopheles with them, surrounding and seducing and tempting her opponent into the path she wants them to take; it’s alluring, and you could read it as purely in service of her gamble or as something with more layers than that.  Afterward, she is quick to want to keep her conquests in her orbit as friends (or maybe more, especially in the case of Mary). But the biggest Yuri magnet is the student council president, whom the vice president is obviously in love with, Beautification Committee head and all-around lunatic Midari stabbed an eye out for, and Yumeko herself is clearly infatuated with. For now we must hope that the teases, innuendo-laced lines of dialogue, extremely Yuri opening theme, and reams upon reams of Yumeko x Mary fanart add up to something more concrete next season!

Kakeguruimashou!

Ratings:

Art – 10 I love, love, loved the style
Story – 6 Serviceable enough to get you to the good stuff
Characters – 9 I loved how weird and non-cute the characters were allowed to be. The sadly typical “girl who is like half the size of everyone else and acts and dresses like a child but is somehow in highschool” character knocks a point off for me.
Yuri – 3 I wanted to put this higher, but so far it’s all just innuendo, suggestion, and gambling-related seduction.
Service – 10 It has multiple (tastefully shot) gambling-related spontaneous female orgasms. If you’re *really* into gambling, this one might go to 11.

Overall – 8

Note: From a technical perspective, on the plus side most things are high quality: the subtitles are attractive and easy to read, sub and dub are available in multiple languages, and you even get the songs translated. However, for sub purists the scripts make some regressive translation mistakes, such as omitting honorifics and changing the names people are called. This leads to situations like this one in the third episode, where they translate some dialogue as: “Hey, Yumeko. Good morning!” “Oh, how disappointing. You and I are friends now, aren’t we? You may call me Yumeko.” C’mon, Netflix. Let’s at least get into the 2000’s on this.

Erica here: Fantastic review! I’m motivated to create a Netflix account now, and if I thought for a second I’d make the time to watch this, I might actually do that. ^_^ Thank you Mariko, for this most excellent review.

It’s Guest Review Wednesday here on Okazu! Today we have returning Guest Guest Reviewer, Mariko S, who will be handling a request I get here rather often, a look at the Cross Ange series.  

If you know of some media that you consider Yuri or lesbian and want it reviewed, but haven’t seen it here, take a look at our Guest Review Guidelines and consider offering to write a review. 

So please welcome back Mariko and give her your undivided attention. Take it away, Mariko!

Compared to a couple of decades ago, it has never been easier to acquire and enjoy Yuri. Before, outside of a couple of pantheon-level characters and series, we Yurifans were mostly relegated to overblowing curiously timed blushes and offhand remarks. Now there’s more dedicated Yuri content released than ever before.

Of course, the dark side of this evolution has been the ossification of the Yuri genre around the “pure schoolgirl” archetype. This has resulted in seemingly endless series devoted to a plain girl entering a prestigious private all-girls school in a world where men don’t exist, and all the girls are gay. Nothing much happens over the course of a season, and at the end you get a kiss between the leads (maybe).

Where can we turn to break out of this doldrum? Where there is a real story, with a detailed plot, and things of consequence happen to a diverse cast in a richly developed world that happens to contain lesbian characters? In search of such a thing, I have delved into the world of seinen series, home of old to various evil lesbian predators or joke Yuricrushes. And to my delight, amongst the awful dreck of your Koihime Musou and Valkyrie Drives, there is some worthwhile stuff being produced! Today I come to talk to you about Cross Ange: Rondo of Angel and Dragon, available on Crunchyroll (behind an adult themes warning.)

We are introduced to an idyllic world, seemingly free of all strife, and the magi-tech power called Mana that enables it. Our heroine Angelise is a spoiled, ignorant princess who, as it turns out, is one of the outcast “norma,” people (always female) who cannot use Mana. Her unmasking and downfall is orchestrated by her scheming brother, and as a result she is rudely ripped from her perfect life of privilege and thrown into the hidden war that enables the rest of society’s bliss.

As she finds out, when norma are discovered they are sent to a distant island where they are forced to use non-magic weapons in the form of fighting jet-robots called para-mails to battle extradimensional invading dragons. Most of the girls have been there since birth and know no other life.

The series has a remarkably good pace of character development for Ange. She has lived all her life believing that norma were antisocial monsters that must be eliminated, and it is not a quick or easy process for her to accept that she is one and how to restart her life as one. Additionally, the layers of truth and fiction surrounding the reality of the show’s universe are revealed in a gradual but compelling way. Things do not stay static long on this show.

Ok, so I will outright say it – many aspects of the show can get pretty ridiculous. The service is liberally sprinkled around: the battle uniforms are glorified fetishwear, too many conversations take place in baths, and there’s no shortage of boobs and butts flying around. However, as far as the plot is concerned, as crazy as many of the developments seem as they come out, for the most part I have to give the show credit for hanging together by its own internal logic to the end. There is only one truly horrendous asspull for which you will have to pretend they came up with a better explanation.

There are situations of violence and sexual coercion meant to emphasize Ange’s vulnerability. There’s lots of violence overall; although most of it isn’t especially gruesome, some scenes could be difficult if you are sensitive. Finally, the token male lead/love interest Tusk has a running gag of ending up face-first in Ange’s crotch at every opportunity. It isn’t funny the first time, and gets less funny every time after.

But that out of the way, unlike many of its contemporaries, this show has a brain and a heart. Ange goes on quite the journey from a weak, irritating, unlikeable brat to a strong, seasoned, fair leader. The series wants to say something about the way groups of people are marginalized and demonized to maintain a false sense of security. It brings together a diverse cast of people who are not stereotypes or tokens, but who have pasts, presents, and futures to explore. It draws a distinct contrast between the way the main villain says he wants “strong women of intelligence” by his side, but really just wants obedient servants, and the truly strong women who oppose him. It’s not a masterpiece, but it has ambition, and that is commendable.

Make no mistake, this is a series with Yuri, and plenty of it. But also, make no mistake, this is a seinen series through and through, and wears its fanservice badge proudly and frequently. For the first half of the series, lesbian attraction and lesbian sex serves primarily as titillation. To the show’s credit, there is never any “but we’re both girls” or a sense that it’s a stand-in because men aren’t around. Some of the sex is about power, some is about genuine attraction. The only character who thinks it’s “wrong” is Ange herself, and that is part of her character development.

In the end, while she does not return the feelings of the girl who loves her, she accepts them and even chastises her for feeling that her attraction is “weird.” Her response was pretty amazing to me for a show like this: “Who says it’s weird? That’s the ridiculous world we’re going to destroy together, isn’t it?”

In fact, there are three canonically lesbian characters who are all fully developed and have arcs both including and apart from their sexuality. They are not by any means one-note side characters or jokes. And that, whatever other shortcomings this show has, makes it worth any Yurifan’s time and money.
Ratings:
Art – 7
Story – 8
Characters – 7
Yuri– 8
Service – 10

Overall – 7

Thank you very much, Mariko!