There’s Always More Drama – This Week in Anime

And I wanted to peer-pressure you into catching up on everything Baby Assassins.

Joking aside, Baby Assassins Everyday! has quite a bit in common with most anime series these days—twelve, twenty-ish-minute episodes, distinct arcs, and might require a little homework before hopping into it. However, I wouldn’t really describe the Baby Assassins trilogy as “homework.” Each entry in the series (including the show) has amazing action direction from The Furious‘ Kensuke Sonomura, razor-sharp writing, and features wonderful chemistry between its two leads—Saori Izawa (Mahiro) and Akari Takaishi (Chisato).

They’re so gay. I love them.

As you said, the girls are just doing their thing amid failing structures, encroaching AI, and working with a psychopathic sales team. Not to mention that a core pillar of the series (and the third film) focuses on how the millennials in the girls’ lives have failed to really protect them, and now they’ve got to pick up the pieces on their own. Talk about close to home.

Outside of a few other shows we’ll be looking at, Everyday is perhaps on the smoothest watches of the bunch. I woofed it down in just a few days when the series randomly hit HBO Max last fall.

Also, this fight scene whips ass.

And before you ask, this originally aired in 2018.

On another note, viewers are also likely to notice a few of Hideaki Anno regulars pop up here. Namely, Mikako Ichikawa (Shin Godzilla, Cutie Honey) as the wisecracking Yuko, and the musical styling of Kenshi Yonezu, who provides the series’ ending theme “Lemon.” By the way, the song’s such a hit; I’d heard it in my music rotation long before I knew it was from a show. In fact, it was playing at the ramen shop I hit up a few weeks back.

Is Doctor-X‘s recent debut on US Netflix why I was so gung-ho about this column? Yes, yes, and yes.

While Doctor-X was still on Prime Video, I found myself zigzagging through the show’s seven seasons… And while I haven’t watched all of it, I quickly realized why the series has been such a long-running institution—Michiko Daimon herself, Ryoko Yonekura.

I don’t mean to needlessly blow smoke, but everything Yonekura brings to the role puts Michiko right next to Columbo in my eyes. Her performance is so fleshed out (which seven seasons and a movie help), Michiko becomes one of those characters you can throw into just about any situation, and it’ll be entertaining.

Like that one time she hung out with Shin-chan.

There’s quite a bit of misery going around in this forty-five-minute premiere, but getting it all out of the way upfront makes for a rock-solid foundation for the series. From opening on an attempted murder, to a family crumbling apart, and the death of Asuka’s mother, it’s a lot to take in. However, once you know the stakes and pieces in play, Miss King doesn’t let off the gas.

Ego death through classic board games.

Security cameras in a centuries-old building? Who knew?

Since I mentioned lesbians again, let’s sprinkle a little gender on the topic, shall we?

Scratch that, Cinderella Closet asks for a whole side order of gender to go with its gay.

However, I’m not sure if this is also present in the manga this series is based on or if it’s a television-only element.

But before your situationship does your makeup, how about we have Kimitaku give you a new do, eh?

Speaking of which, Beautiful Life originally aired just over twenty-five years ago. That’s all the more shocking because, while slegdehammer-y at times, the series is surprisingly on point when confronting external and internalized ableism, the realities of being in a relationship with someone who has a physical disability, and just how inaccessible Tokyo is. Apparently it hasn’t gotten much better in the quarter century since this show was made.

But to pull the focus back a little, Beautiful Life follows the budding romance between a hot shot hairstylist, Shuji (Takuya Kimura), and a snarky librarian, Kyoko (Takako Tokiwa), who uses a wheelchair. They initially meet amid a bit of road rage, which quickly evolves into a brutal trading of quips at the library. Oh, and she thinks he’s building a bomb.

My heart dropped in this scene. Shuji had given off the impression that he saw Kyoko for who she is, and not just her disability, but the magazine spread calls that all into question. It’s even more heart-wrenching because he’s fully aware of the implications of the spread and his decision to bring her on as a model. Yes, he might see her for her, but he’s often oblivious to the realities involved…and doesn’t realize it till it’s too late.

Our pre-Gundam Seed, “Hot Limit” hunk plays such a great “love-to-hate-them” antagonist in this show. Dude nailed the assignment.

Rikuoh‘s the epitome of a feel good, back-against-the-wall underdog story. Yakusho’s character, Miyazawa, is the boss of an over-hundred-year-old tabi factory who’s facing the slow and brutal decline of his business. He’s running out of clients, and the specialized machinery he needs to craft the traditional footwear is becoming increasingly rare. However, his fortunes start to turn when a plucky finance manager recommends he apply his knowledge to something new—a running shoe.

Miyazawa’s not the only one facing hard times either, as an accomplished marathon runner suffers a serious injury while in competition. And before either of them knows it, this dream of a new running shoe brings them together.

Is sex in the midfoot strike?

And much like Kamen Rider, how about those CG blorbos?

And with Rikuoh on the shoe rack, that’s it for our journey into nearly thirty years of Japanese television. We’ve only just scratched the surface, but these are the cream of the crop. Not to mention all the powerful surgeons, lesbians, hairdressers, and dads on hard times you’ve been introduced to, Sylvia.

We even caught you up with the girls while we were at it.