Jeoffrey

The show delves into a world of witches, necromancers, vampires, and other supernatural beings, which is a theme I've always found captivating. However, I couldn't shake the feeling that it was constantly teasing something grander, only to leave it half-explored. While there are intriguing standalone stories, each brimming with potential, I couldn't help but wonder if they'd ever fully blossom. Characters like Phanora and Helga are introduced but then seemingly forgotten, leaving their initial presence feeling somewhat hollow and unnecessary. My main gripe with The Witch and the Beast lies in its failure to fully capitalize on its fantastic theme, despite having an engaging central duo and a willingness to embrace darker, bloodier elements. It's like there's a treasure trove of ideas, yet they're not being presented to me with the gusto they deserve. There's a sense of untapped potential that leaves the overall experience feeling interesting yet lacking, as if it's missing that extra spark to truly shine. It's frustrating to see such a promising concept fall short. As for the possibility of a continuation, I find myself torn. On one hand, I'm eager to delve deeper into the world of vampires and uncover more layers of the mysterious abyss tied to the main storyline. But on the other hand, I fear it might just be more glimpses into fascinating concepts that never fully materialize. It's like a window into the creators' rich imagination that's left half-open, teasing us with what could be but never fully delivering.  6/10

This one was a major letdown for me, probably one of the biggest disappointments from the winter season. I'm usually a fan of Studio BONES, and this was their anniversary project, so I was expecting at least a 7+/10 experience. Instead, what I got was a half-baked Blade Runner mixed with mecha suits straight out of Ultraman, and a main duo of girls who were trying way too hard to have chemistry (because Motonobu Hori gave us Carol and Tuesday), but even that fell flat. Their relationship lacked a solid foundation, leaving me wanting more in terms of their interactions and gradual development to make me believe in their feelings and trust for each other, especially during those moments when it seemed like they were just pbetraying each other. The same goes for the other nine Neans, supposedly once part of a big family with very fragile relationships that were supposed to carry the weight of the story towards the end. But building connections to characters and believing in their bonds based solely on a few flashbacks just didn't work. Take Rouge and Cyan, for example - trying to establish a deep sisterly bond in two episodes is just not realistic, and I couldn't buy into it. It feels like character development was rushed because the creators tried to cram in as many fights and classic sci-fi questions about the line between human and robot, and what free will means (basically Mars: Become Human)... but even that felt rushed. There were so many characters, so many side plots that I initially enjoyed, but they mostly turned out to be inconsequential. And the final twist, thanks to all those side plots, lost its impact. Building up the mysterious puppeteer behind it all was unnecessary because it was obvious who was under the mask from the start, especially since the story didn't provide any other viable options. And with all these layers and twists, the core of who is really behind everything falls completely flat, because the viewer is so tangled up in all the "onion layers" without proper exposition while being told that the story is still clever and delicate... It needed at least 24 episodes to fully explore and unfold everything, to allow the viewer to experience every layer of the story thoroughly and make it all meaningful. The beginning was promising, capturing that cyberpunk atmosphere perfectly. Everything seemed simple yet full of potential. Actually, the only thing I found lacking after the first episode was the underutilized music side (I was expecting some booming synths, a distinctive soundtrack, given the Blade Runner vibes). Some later episodes were decent, showing me the setting and developing characters, but it all started to feel overcrowded from around the fourth episode. It seemed like the creators weren't sure where to focus their attention, throwing too much into the pot at once, and it started to burn and fall apart. As I mentioned, the ending wasn't particularly surprising, and when it did try, the twists felt forced or had no emotional impact on me. Or they were accompanied by a line that made me want to facepalm ("The one who killed me was me!"). But okay, enough of the negativity. Let's mention some positives. Animation-wise, the series was impressive. The fight scenes were good, especially in terms of the use of colors and effects. I did manage to relate to the main duo at times, but it wasn't always easy. That's about it. Metallic Rouge was supposed to be this grand project, something I was looking forward to, something I believed Studio BONES would put effort into. But in the end, it was just a messy and half-baked series with a promising start but a dull and unimpressive finale. Rouge MIDStar - 5/10.

A series about a gamer made by gamers, for gamers! Initially, it was a dark horse of the fall season for me, an incredibly entertaining show that spoke my language as a gamer. It was clear right from the start that its creators were true video game enthusiasts, using terms like perfect parry and glass cannon build that only those who've spent time gaming would understand. The main character's unique appearance with his chosen build and acquired debuff immediately caught my attention. In fact, I was so captivated by Sunraku that I had a blue bird as my avatar for half a year. As the series progressed, it just kept getting better and better. It began revealing the local lore, showcasing crafting and other game mechanics, and I quickly found myself drawn into a world I would love to immerse myself in — a game I'd want to play myself. I enjoyed watching Sunraku on his journey, believing in his enthusiasm and dedication. While there were occasional minor flaws, I've come to expect certain quirks in Asian games—like having their own screaming Paimon (here, Emul) or another mascot (and emergency food source). The humor could be wild and childish at times, but the authors compensated with awesome action and surprisingly good animation from the C2C studio. I remember poking fun at Dragon Ball in the past, where fights lasted multiple episodes. And here, it's the same concept, but it makes perfect sense. Just like in a video game, you have boss fights that are hyped for several episodes, heroes preparing for them, and then the real deal with enemies having several different phases like in soulslike games. The fight with Wethermon lived up to expectations, fulfilling the concept of a boss fight to perfection. The episodes dedicated to him flew by, and the animation was truly showcased here — dynamic, intense, and beautifully colored. In terms of animation, Shangri-La Frontier stands strong, hitting A-tier levels just like Solo Leveling. I'm willing to forgive the animators for the minor CG slip in the penultimate episode with the crystalline scorpions. In short, Shangri-La Frontier delivered on all fronts for me. I thoroughly enjoyed this series and eagerly anticipate the next season, announced to arrive surprisingly soon — in just half a year. I can confidently recommend this series not only to anime fans but also to RPG players, especially ARPG enthusiasts. For me, it's a solid 9/10.

The fifth season may have been shorter than my usual expectations, but it left me thoroughly satisfied. It showed what kind of general Shin wants to be, revealing the trials his unit faced, and most importantly, his evolving perspective on warfare. What gripped me most was the stark contrast between Shin's army and Kan Ki's forces — what they were willing to sacrifice for victory, the ingenious methods an army of former bandits could conjure, and the chilling realities of war that they brought. This series truly shines in portraying the moral dilemmas of war. Although it is clear who you're supposed to root for, I found myself torn between Shin's idealism and Kan Kiho's pragmatic approach, which felt more grounded in the historical context. The final episode didn't disappoint either. Ei Sei's vision for uniting the seven kingdoms and his impassioned speech struck a chord, making his quest for unification all the more compelling. His emotional appeal made perfect sense, and I continued to find myself rooting for his cause. Of course, we can't forget the epic battles, led by generals driven by intriguing motivations. This time, the focus on forested terrain with hills added another layer of strategic depth, with devious deceptions keeping me on the edge of my seat. Overall, Season 5 delivered another excellent experience for me. 9/10

With all the buzz surrounding Solo Leveling before its release, I admit I expected a bit more. Initially, I couldn't quite see what all the hype was about. The whole premise of gates from another dimension opening into our world felt like a cliché, and the first few episodes seemed like a generic edgefest with the most obvious cliffhanger. The protagonist gaining abilities that make everyday life like a video game didn't really grab me either, and the nurses watching his gradual transformation were about as interesting as watching paint dry. Even in terms of animation, I wasn't hyped up at first. I'd seen screenshots from the manhwa and comparisons to the anime adaptation, and my initial impression? The anime didn't quite convince me. The fights started catching my interest around the battle with the giant snake, and the story really picked up when it delved into the gray areas of these portals to another world — what could happen in them and who you need to watch out for. While I still wasn't too keen on the video game mechanics, I saw them as an easy way to track the hero's progress for the viewer. The animation gradually improved; by the second half, it was really something to watch, and I enjoyed many of the battles. However, comparing A-1 Pictures' work here to MAPPA's on the second season of Jujutsu Kaisen, which I consider the gold standard of anime action, what A-1 Pictures delivered here is solidly A-tier — it could have been better. What also didn't quite click for me were the characters. The main protagonist is cool, and I enjoy following him, but he's pretty much the only character I feel like I know anything substantial about. With most of the other side characters, I know roughly who they are, but after twelve episodes, I still have minimal insight into their personalities. Summing it up, this series gradually won me over. It hasn't reached the level of hype for me yet, but as a decent introduction, it worked relatively well, and it really got going in the second half. I'm interested in seeing more, expecting more, and hopefully, the second season won't disappoint. For now, Season 1 gets a 7.4/10 from me.

Ragna Crimson isn't afraid to dive into the edgy, dark side, often immersing you in rivers of blood and a tale filled with loss and suffering. Yet, amidst all this grimness, the series manages to hook you with moments of hope and determination, creating a thrilling rollercoaster ride. What truly captivated me in this rather uncomplicated battle between people and dragons, though, was the depth of the characters. The main characters aren't simply painted in black, white, or gray; they're richly colored with unexpected nuances and contradictions. I found myself unexpectedly drawn into the story of  Ultimatia and Voltekamui, falling for the eccentric armless princess Starlia, who sees our hero as a sexy sword. Crimson's chaotic yet calculated nature intrigued me, as did Ragna's struggle, which went beyond being a mere dragon-slaying trope like Eren. The question lingers: do dragons truly deserve death? Once human, often with extraordinary stories, now monstrous, each dragon carries a tale of their own, making them more than mere monsters. The characters truly stole the show for me — their development, interactions, and complexities kept me thoroughly engaged. The battles were another highlight, some executed brilliantly, while others made me think of the advice: "If you can't animate something dynamically and in detail, deceive the viewer's attention with the help of colors." So, in terms of colors, it was a real treat. I particularly enjoyed effects like lightning, hand-drawn to perfection, which gave the series a unique, almost retro feel. While this style might not appeal to everyone, I found it refreshing and immersive. In the end, Ragna Crimson is a success in my eyes — an edgy, well-crafted series. Unlike other shows, it knows what it's doing, confidently presents its narrative, and delivers on intriguing characters. 7.8/10

I had high hopes going in, but The Dangers in My Heart surpassed all expectations. The final episode was nothing short of brilliant, earning a solid 10/10 from me. The way the two main characters bared their hearts, revealing why they fell in love, felt so genuine and beautifully fitting with everything we've seen throughout not just this season, but the entire series. From the very first season, the show had me hooked. It delved into the gradual transformation of two vastly different personalities finding their way to each other. The second season brilliantly builds upon this foundation, deepening their relationship, throwing new obstacles in their path, and culminating in a breathtaking finale. What stood out the most for me? Perhaps it was how the main character, despite his insecurities and fears, ultimately grasped what needed to be done at a crucial moment, revealing a surprising maturity. On the other hand, the main female character, often seeming confident but struggling with her own uncertainties, felt incredibly relatable. The series beautifully portrays the conflicts of adolescence — the clash between the weight of adulthood's responsibilities and the carefree naivety of childhood. It's a delicate balance that's masterfully executed, making everything the characters do feel utterly believable. Moments like Ichikawa's confrontation with his past self are some of the series' most powerful. Both main characters are exceptionally well-written, with their own strengths and weaknesses. Watching them grow, both individually and in their relationship, is what kept me rooting for them throughout. Sure, it gets cringy and awkward at times, but that's part of the charm — reminiscent of those first romances we've all experienced. The animation is top-notch, complemented by an even better musical score. In short, I was thoroughly enthralled by the show. I hope for more episodes because this feels like just the beginning of a relationship that promises to be as intriguing as the journey to it. 9.5/10

If you were a fan of the first season, this one will likely hit the same notes for you. On the other hand, if the first season didn't quite grab you, this second one won't do much to change your mind. There's a faction of viewers out there who claim Mashle is the pinnacle of comedy, citing the opening of the second season as a musical masterpiece. Humor, much like musical taste, is incredibly subjective. That's why I'd prefer it if die-hard fans of Mashle didn't try to make me laugh, explain a joke, or play their favorite songs for me. I seem to be in the minority here because I didn't find Mashle's humor to be the least bit funny. This season failed to elicit even a chuckle from me — not once. Many jokes fell flat, feeling awkward and out of sync with my sense of humor. Some moments, like when Mashle's friends turned into kids or certain parts of the last episode, made me cringe so hard it felt like a part of me was quietly dying. The attempt at humor severely dampened my interest, and honestly, I'm not sure if I'll stick around for another season. The opening song, which received praise from many, didn't resonate with me (although I loved the previous songs from Creepy Nuts in Call of the Night). It felt repetitive and uninspiring, so I ended up skipping it — it just wasn't my style. Additionally, the insertion of hip-hop as background music for various scenes didn't sit well with me and clashed with the epic, symphonic fantasy motifs. Moving on to the story and fights, this season left me underwhelmed. While the plot was straightforward and some questions were answered, the resolutions felt simplistic and often clichéd (cue the "Luke, I am your father!" moment). I missed the light-hearted and inventive ways Mashle navigated the lack of magic in the first season. Here, it seemed like the solution was always to do things with bigger force, with Mashle bulldozing through obstacles. The physical and magical fights also lacked the impact and execution I enjoyed in the first season. Perhaps my standards have shifted due to newer anime, but what Mashle presented felt average at best. In conclusion, "Mashle: Braindead" simply didn't resonate with me and entertained me even less than the first season. It just goes to show that this anime isn't my cup of tea and it feels like much of what made the series unique has been exhausted. With that said, if the first and second seasons didn't impress me, it's unlikely the next one will, so I'll leave it to the die-hard fans. I give this season a 4.5/10.

I decided to give this series a shot, even though the trailers made it seem like utter nonsense. Why? Because it was directed by Chizuru Miyawaki, the genius behind much of my beloved Gintama. I hoped it might be funny, surprising, or at least decent. Two episodes in, and I have to admit, the miracle didn't happen — it's just nonsense!

Imagine stepping into a bar while completely sober. You glance around and think to yourself, "Well, this looks dreadful." There are a few regulars, clearly already deep into their drinks, chatting away about things that seem like utter nonsense to you - you're not from around here, after all. Then, out of nowhere, a beer-bellied fellow starts describing his obscene fantasies and questionable experiences with women. You can't shake the feeling that none of it actually happened, and you start wondering why you even walked in here in the first place. After a short while, you decide to turn on your heel and leave without even ordering anything. That's how my experience with Snack Basue felt – a moment with an anime that's tragically lacking in animation quality, with unlikable characters who dive into Japanese politics, actors, and other stuff that might excite die-hard Japanophiles, but not your average viewer, even if they're an anime fan. Then came Morita's ramblings, and I felt an overwhelming sense of cringe wash over me. It was at that moment I realized I didn't want to continue watching this. The series held no value for me, in fact, it was a pretty unpleasant watch. So, it was only logical to drop it after the first episode...