Konshuu Volume 56, Issue 7

Futaba Sakura, Morgana and Joker

Willow Otaka

ADORABLE ENTREPRENEUR/WHEN ADOLESCENCE AND MAGIC MEET BUSINESS

Writer

ALEXANDRE HAIOUN-PERDRIX

3rd Year, Philosophy

Because you do not always need to use or design weaponry to earn money in Miyazaki’s world.

Kiki’s Delivering Service is rarely remembered as one of the greatest Miyazaki. One could say that is because contenders include in the general battlefield Nausicaa or Spirited Away, and in the playground of films apparently more designed for young people, Ponyo and Totoro. But it could also be that this smaller popularity is due to quite a different frame. Kiki, indeed, offers an unusual approach to its protagonist. Younger than those of Mononoké or Howl’s Moving Castle, but under no parental immediate tutorship like those of Totoro and Ponyo, Kiki does not provide an adventure in the strictest sense of the word, except perhaps at its very end; it is, “paradoxically” might think some, closer to one of the most “adult” films of our director, The wind rises, when it comes to its atmosphere. Like this latter, it is the story of a young character, much more human than the main figures of many already listed works. Its essence, in that sense, is casually revealed at its very beginning: a thirteen-year-old girl gets to learn the world and how to make her living, far from her home and parents (willingly).

Were we to continue on this comparative track, a rare feature we would have to notice would be the – light – insertion of the economic realm in this film. Miyazaki’s protagonists are mostly either freed from financial obligations by their position (children, aristocrats) or find an employer (or someone that might be considered that way – mining industry, pirate fleet, sorcerer or aeronautical company). Unlike them, but just like Porco Rosso’s hero – and this one only – Kiki happens to be an entrepreneur. It precisely takes only about thirty minutes to get her declaring she wants to start her business. (Sure, the question of whether it is even just legal for a thirteen-year-old girl might be asked, but o kawaii koto.) And entrepreneurship will be one of two tools which simultaneously are crucial to developments of the history and may be sometimes simply pushed in the background as dispensable – the second one being food, a polyvalent and core element of the film which nevertheless manages to almost absolutely disappear from its last fifteen minutes.

Both have an essential double role: social, within the story, and scriptwise impactful – helping development. “Entrepreneur” is itself a function, a role and a means for growing up and social insertion: throughout the film, Kiki is confronted with unexpected difficulties in the course of her job, which she often has to

Never too young to start a business.

face alone. Those hardships are on an individual level less occasions to acquire skills than moments when it is necessary for the heroine to do so. On a social level, there are crucial events, since the assistance of others does not only prove helpful, but has externalities which are positive in themselves. They are the basis on which Kiki gets inserted in the social fabric: since she is an entrepreneur (and not one of the gig economy), not an employee, clients are those she gets to know while working, not colleagues. Her job choice thus determines partly her social relations. These relations extend beyond this sole realm: although some of them are bound to remain “weak ties”, some may (and indeed do) become “strong”. But because they were born as weak ties, it is less difficult for them to originate in further social milieus and to ignore age differences.

This is how a core relationship is built, which ties Kiki with a much older lady who had at first been her client. It is her helpfulness, her desire to do well – were it to mean doing more than was foreseen, because the circumstances have changed and as an already a bit experienced entrepreneur, she is able and willing to adapt (which is easier out of the framework of any firm) – which produce a very favourable impression on the lady; it is the kindness, the gratefulness – and the will to show the latter – of this lady which transform their bond into friendship, thanks to a logic of gift and counter-gift. And here food plays the most important role, displays its wide range of social functions: it is simultaneously the product of a benevolent work, which by its length and gratuity is made more priceless, an object of paid work, which makes Kiki the intermediary of another social relation – that of a grandmother and her granddaughter, and one of the most direct ways one has to express his feelings. Regardless of whether the message is or not accepted or understood: it shows love for the granddaughter and Kiki, but is disappointedly received in the first case, with the greatest emotion in the second one – for it is a complex message pre-

senting itself under the most simple appearance. (Although it might help that food is no abstract object but a pumpkin herring pie in the first case, and a lovely cake in the second one. Or thus would it matter if Kiki were not, like almost all Miyazaki’s protagonists, too pure not to be overflowing with joy regardless of what exactly is given her.) It is the object of human desires and sentiments as well as it is a conveyer for them. This is why it is not the sole thing traded and exchanged. (If even it is: none of the delivering operations Kiki accomplishes is a mere way to get or send the delivered object. It is probably relevant that food is not by essence the item with which her activity does – she is a service entrepreneur, just delivering; and it is that service which matters for the scenario.)

Cooking pancakes, it is to be noticed, is quite a dangerous activity.

The

This kind of service she provides is also important: it has not been chosen randomly, but because of already possessed abilities. Entrepreneurship is here a means, but is has itself its means: it requires specialisation, hence skills. The question of skills is more of an identity question in this film: Kiki has them because she is what she is – a witch, whose main talent is riding a flying broom. This capacity is – with a few banknotes – the capital with which she starts her business. The rest is essentially a history of good and bad luck, or rather of how it is possible to accept or refuse them – to make them one’s own. Food is as crucial in this context as it is contingent: it is Osono, the baker, who offers her to sleep and then live in her house, reinforcing with this proximity the role of food as a merchandise – something which encourages to work (because it is necessary to get it and live – Kiki being notably rebuked by the idea of eating only pancakes), to earn money – subsequently, to act, but also a means to do so.

However, the choice of both food and entrepreneurship is, at last, merely instrumental. This is why, when the script requires it, it may easily give way to (lose its dominance in favour of, not be replaced by), for instance, friendship, at least as important as them here. This film is about, not “finding” but “making”, “creating” one’s place – about emancipation and the building of individuality. The way Kiki is treated and how she approaches herself her job is moreover closer to the artistic realm than to usual entrepreneurship, which is of course made easier by the fact her work is accomplished with the help of magic. The words of the painter, her friend of the woods (met, her too, in the course of Kiki’s job), largely contribute to this closeness –sometimes obviously (“magic and drawing have perhaps something in common). Both of her occupations rely on skills that require a certain state of mind.

This is why the film does not need great efforts to introduce but also get out of the question of sadness, if not depression, which does not take over that of social insertion, but is added to it. Kiki’s Delivering Service does not try to sell a naive version of emancipation and individuation – which would be even harder and more questionable in the case of a thirteen-year-old entrepreneur, subject to the ear of lacking clients made more pressing by the lack of fixed income. Magic, work and food all happen to be helpful to convey this message: loss of power, especially, is a very concrete way to illustrate it – but so is the lack of will to eat, since it has been made obvious for a moment how both necessary and great it is. The loss of power, not content with its demonstrative nature, is terrible in two ways. Firstly, it means that an essential feature of her identity is temporarily put aside: she has hardly been described, or described herself, as something other than a witch. Not only is she in front of the terrible idea that she might be just someone else than before, someone with less than the one she was before – and until she gets these powers back – but just as anxiety-inducing is the fear that her social connections may vanish: all the people she knows in that city know her as “the little witch”. Worse than all, possibly, it is an effective part of her identity, unquestionably, that has left with her witchcraft – her ability to speak with her cat, or his ability to speak with her, and to think and act partly like a human being. This is subsequently a whole being who has been put aside. Secondly, it means her job is as risk too: she has no great capital but those flying skills – her sole contribution, albeit a great one, was a process innovation, associating in an unusual way an old activity (delivering) and an even older means of transport (riding a broom). It is the way she could find herself helpful, and her means of living, that has slipped away. However, this Miyazaki is still, if not intended for, at least thought as visible by children. Work, food and magic will thus still offer a happier ending. Whereas depression had led her to almost cut some of her relations, these are some of them, made in the course of her job, that make life lighter for her, and food which happens to be a very effective means of expression thereof. And magic reappears at last when her state of mind, already healed, is restored by force of events. That is, when she is compelled to make up solutions and a strategy, basic as it may be, like her job has trained her to do. At last, working is truly just a part of social life: it is not only about learning how to set prices and accomplish tasks, but maybe principally about meeting people and acquiring skills that accompany you out on other sides of your life. Entrepreneurship may be the background of the whole film (from the moment it was introduced therein), but is still not its subject – at most, a part of it.

pumpkin herring pie. A little bit burnt but you know, it is the thought that counts.

DUNGEON MESHI

- I EAT THEREFORE I AM

BLAKE MORRISON

MINOR SPOILERS FOR DUNGEON MESHI!

You can tell a lot about a person from what they eat. You can also tell a lot from whether they cook for themselves, or from whether the food they eat comes from animals and plants that they themselves have killed. That last question may seem out of place. Almost no one kills the food that they eat anymore. Sure, I’ve uprooted some vegetables before, but I’ve never killed an animal, let alone killed one in order to eat it. Frankly, I think it’s a great shame that I never have. If I’m willing to eat something, I think I should be willing to kill whatever it came from, and such personal involvement with the food that keeps one alive dayto-day that is, interestingly enough, embodied by a manga that starts out as a comedy series about cooking the monsters of a high fantasy dungeon: Kui Ryoko’s first long-running manga, Dungeon Meshi (literally: Dungeon Meals), aka Delicious in Dungeon

They’re also broke to the point of being unable to afford to feed themselves, which is where the party-leader Laios comes up with the genius idea of replacing regular rations with monsters.

A swath of other problems crop up. Laios sucks at cooking, and Marcille and Chilchuk, the party’s mage and lockpick, are repulsed by the mere thought of eating the monsters that prowl around the dungeon. Enter Senshi, a mysterious dwarf who randomly approaches the party and offers to help them cook monsters. Any given chapter early on usually sees the party run into, defeat, and cook a new monster. Laios and Senshi then rejoice at getting to try a new dungeon meal, and Marcille and others freak out until they try some and realize that it actually tastes pretty good. Rinse dishes and repeat. This simple monster meal of the week formula gets more complicated as the manga continues and we learn about the nature of the dungeon and the backstories of the various party members. Although it’s unlikely that all twists and turns of Dungeon Meshi were planned from the start, the early chapters hold up surprisingly well upon a reread and often subtly foreshadow later events. It’s also a delight to watch the main cast grow to care about each other on a more personal level as they learn to appreciate the surprising intricacy of the dungeon’s ecology.

Dungeon Meshi begins generically enough, with a party of adventurers getting wiped out by a dragon in the lower levels of a dungeon. The dragon ends up eating Falin, the healer of the party, just after she casts a spell to teleport her companions to the surface. The party then sets out to slay the dragon so they can revive Falin from her corpse. There’s just one small problem. Falin is being digested, so the adventurers have to hurry back to the depths of the dungeon if they don’t want to be stuck with the near-impossible task of reviving her from her bones alone.

From its very first chapter, Dungeon Meshi epitomizes the truism “eat or be eaten,” and despite all its comedy and slice of life elements, it doesn’t shy away from depicting the often gruesome realities of its fantasy food chain. Later on in the manga, the simple fact of killing and eating in order to live becomes inextricably tied to desires in general. Just as one has to kill and eat other living beings in order to live, one’s desires can often only be fulfilled at the expense of the desires of others. Thankfully, Dungeon Meshi does not shove this message down the reader’s throat but tastefully builds to it over a slow-burn of cooking and comedy. My compliments to the chef!

Writer

3rd Year, English and Japanese Today I ate: two slices of toast spread with peanut butter, a sandwich filled with swiss cheese, turkey slices and romaine lettuce, two cups of broccoli, 1½ cups of rice, and a sirloin steak.

If it makes you feel better, they kill the rabbits in self-defense

ARAKAWA HIROMU’S RURAL PROPAGANDA MANGA

cally associated with battle shounen are aspects that are the backbone of her other manga, Gin no Saji.

I respect Fullmetal Alchemist for what it is, but ultimately, I’ve never really been able to see it as the seminal classic masterpiece that others believe it to be. It avoids many pitfalls that other battle shounen series have succumbed to, yet in doing so, it also lacks many of the strengths that many battle manga/anime possess. Fundamentally, I believe it has succeeded so much due to its appeal as a crossover hit; while many people may not enjoy, say, the over-the-top physical contests in Dragon Ball, the fights in Fullmetal Alchemist are somewhat more tactical in terms of its power system. I personally find power systems as a concept to generally be annoying as they detract from the actual storytelling in these series, but Fullmetal Alchemist generally succeeds at not making itself too reliant on those aspects. Its setting is somewhat interesting with its background of Europe and a vague steampunk feel. Even so, it kind of pales in comparison to the truly wacky and strange worlds that most series in the general subgenre possess. Beyond that, I find the emotional narrative of the series to be rather overplayed. I can see that many people respond to the cathartic payoffs of various character arcs, yet I can’t get over the extreme contrast from overwrought melodrama to goofy gag humor that the series possesses because it neither makes an attempt to transition smoothly, nor does it play up that fact for its own sake.

With that said, I particularly admire the author of Fullmetal Alchemist, Arakawa Hiromu, for her evident talents in drawing manga. I’m not necessarily a huge fan of either Fullmetal Alchemist or Arakawa’s adaptation of Arslan Senki, with the latter being a somewhat boring series that lacks the political intrigue of something like Legend of the Galactic Heroes. In spite of this, I find that her works generally contain a unique feel that is unmatched in the medium. While I complain about the melodrama in Fullmetal Alchemist, I actually find little wrong with Arakawa’s writing of emotional scenes – I just wish they were better integrated into her stories. Where Fullmetal Alchemist succeeded as a crossover hit, I find that the elements within it that are not typi-

I don’t like to rely on short memetic comparisons, but for anyone who doesn’t know what Gin no Saji is, I think it could be reductively described as a far less perverted Shokugeki no Soma with a stronger narrative that sticks the landing. The narrative of Gin no Saji, that of a studious city boy escaping to a countryside agriculture school and being hopelessly outmatched by his new classmates, is in many ways analogous to a fighting or sports series. Particularly, the series makes an effort to emphasize the protagonist’s character arc growing from a fish out of water to a well integrated member of the cast. Though Gin no Saji is something of a comedic slice of life story, its coming of age dynamics are fairly well developed as well, with characters considering and struggling to come to terms with their place in the world. Many anime and manga deal with this dynamic, but almost always within the realm of academic development, likely a product of Japan’s work culture. For that matter, as a student of UC Berkeley, I am certainly biased to consider coming of age as a mostly scholastic endeavor. Hence, Gin no Saji’s portrayal of an alternative path, not to mention its willingness to show failure, is fairly powerful. I found an arc where a character drops out of their school to support his family to be especially meaningful, not to mention realistic. Gin no Saji’s overall story is powerful in part due to the focus on these realistic dynamics; while I often find overemphasis of this aspect in media analysis to be missing the point, the series is authentic in a manner which doesn’t detract from, but in fact supports the overall narrative.

Gin no Saji is a series I regard highly enough to where I actually enjoyed its animated adaptation. This may not sound that absurd, but the anime was handled by A1 Pictures, a studio that has released a grand total of two shows that I’ve ever enjoyed (the other being So Ra No Wo To). However, I strongly believe that the manga is superior due to inherently being more consistent, while also having an actual conclusion. While I may not enjoy Fullmetal Alchemist, Gin no Saji is an overall testament to Arakawa Hiromu’s strengths as a mangaka as it embodies the best parts of her works and works well as a solid story.

TONY T. 3rd Year, Economics and Data Science

It is admittedly a bit heavy handed with the condescension towards cities (whether or not that’s right I don’t know)

Managing Editor

THIS SANDWICH SIMULATOR IS TRUBBISH

I think by now, anyone who is an avid Pokémon fan is aware of the same cycle of emotions the online Pokémon community at large goes through with each mainline release:

1. Current gen is not well liked and older games are seen in a better light.

2. The next Pokémon game is hyped up despite one or two massive changes that evoke controversy.

3. The new game is then welcomed with overwhelming positivity upon release, despite the earlier backlash.

4. However, a bitter minority voices that while the new game has its merits, there is much room for improvement, yet those opinions are drowned out.

5. Finally, this iteration of the game doesn’t age well and becomes viewed with great disdain, triggering another cycle within the community, with the hope that significant improvements will appear in the next game.

This cycle began with Gen V where for Black & White, the aforementioned controversy was forcing players to use a new generation of Pokémon exclusively, many of which got hate for their designs. For X & Y, there were too many forgettable characters and a surprising lack of substantial post-game content for the franchise’s debut in 3D. For Sun & Moon, an excess of cutscenes plagued the early parts of the story. Additionally, the removal of gyms felt alien as it strayed from the traditional formula. For Sword & Shield, it was the extremely linear routes, as well as the upsetting announcement that even with the move to console, there would be incompatibility for a full national Pokédex. And now, in Gen IX’s Scarlet & Violet, the main controversy doesn’t even stem from any intended feature but from the plethora of in-game bugs that outnumber the amount of catchable Bug-type Pokémon in this unpolished game. From character models clipping with the environment to severe framerate drops, the bugs in SV are inconsistent among the playerbase, making each copy “personalized” for all the wrong reasons. Although a patch that fixed

some of the glaring issues was implemented three weeks after release, it’s nowhere close to a definite fix. PC boxes still take a while to load and certain water areas still feel like you’re traversing a swamp for example. Sure, the bugs aren’t exactly game breaking and some are ironically hilarious to play around with, but they really break the immersion of a game that is supposed to be revolutionary for the franchise. If anything, they expose the culmination of Game Freak and The Pokémon Company’s lack of care for Pokémon as a video game series to even the most casual of Pokémon fans. You can’t necessarily remove the fun from the basic engine Pokémon has adopted since Gen I, but what is hardly excusable is choosing to not build upon beloved features and changes introduced in past games. It feels like every generation of Pokémon games presents some brand new gimmick at the cost of what we liked from previous generations. One step forward, five steps back. Of course, every generation has its own share of flaws and criticisms, yet SV is awfully foreboding for the quality of mainline Pokémon games to come. Perhaps I’m late in coming to this realization that Pokémon “ain’t what it used to be,” but SV has been the final straw in the stream of Pokémon Switch games that have disappointed me one after another.

I could recreate this scenery in Roblox and it would still look better.

Even if this article ends up feeling overly critical and pessimistic, I would be lying if I said the new Gen IX games had nothing going for them. I really think that if Game Freak was given another year or so, Pokémon Scarlet & Violet could have been in contention for the greatest Pokémon games of all time. There are a lot of interesting elements, but they are held back by its rushed development (sound familiar). I’ll even admit that I initially felt a great rush of dopamine running around Paldea catching every single

Editor-In-Chief

MITCHELL MADAYAG

3rd Year, Japanese and Economics And no, Trubbish cannot be found in the Paldea region.

SPOILERS FOR POKÉMON SCARLET & VIOLET!

Pokémon in sight to fill my Pokédex, with random items and trainer battles filling in the time spent in between these brief moments. It was also refreshing to be able to tackle any of the three different storylines at my own pace instead of being restricted to a single route like in past games. The more I progressed, the more I was able to upgrade Miraidon and then access places I wasn’t able to before, which felt rewarding to revisit old locations and see them in a new light. I still can't fathom why they removed basic features like Set Mode or an EXP Share toggle, or the fact that we’re forced to wear a school uniform at all times, but it didn’t necessarily take away from the overall experience. As always, the soundtrack, albeit quite short this time around, was full of many catchy tunes, some of which were composed by the legendary Toby Fox. My favorites include the Gym Leader Battle Theme, Koraidon/ Miraidon Battle Theme, Academy Ace Tournament Battle Theme, North Province Wild Battle Theme, and Naranja/Uva Academy Classroom Theme. On the topic of the main appeal of Pokémon, being the actual Pokémon, you can’t really complain about most of their designs as there are always bound to be hits and misses like in every gen (though the Paradox Pokémon are lazily named). Skeledirge, Cetitan, Annihilape, Ceruledge, Amarouge, Toedscruel, Klawf, and Gholdengo were particularly cool. It is amazing how we finally reached over 1000 total Pokémon after 26 years worth of games, though it’s a shame only a quarter of these lovable creatures so far can be caught.

But what truly astounded me the most about SV were the converging storylines and the profound deuteragonists that joined us on our journey. I won’t talk about it too much now though as I’d like to discuss it again in further detail once the inevitable DLC releases and expands upon the leftover plot points, such as the third legendary hinted in the Scarlet/Violet Book. “The Way Home” was the perfect end to the main story as all the friends you made along the way gather to uncover the mystery of the beautiful but eerie Area Zero. Observing Arven, Penny, and Nemona undergo their own personal trials was interesting enough, but having them all together brought a whole slew of fun interactions and developments that I wish to see again. These engaging characters and storylines were honestly the main things that kept me playing, and I’m glad I stuck around to see the end.

subpar visuals, my main gripe I have with SV is that outside of being open world, the game is surprisingly devoid of any meaningful content. The overworld itself is decently fine as there are many different environments to explore, yet it feels like Game Freak put in minimal effort in most other areas. Shops are reduced to mere menus and you can’t even enter most buildings, making every city seem soulless and forgettable. The cities vary in terms of architecture and size, but each are nearly identical in terms of use as they lack any additional facilities or side activities that made cities in past games feel memorable (ex. Pokémon Contest halls, Game Freak HQ, Battle Maison). Even buildings with no real functionality or plot relevancy like hotels and museums brought these cities to life. Instead, we’re stuck with an overabundance of clothing stores, restaurants, and food vendors. I’d say that touring brand new cities is also part of the Pokémon experience, yet it feels like a downgrade to the exploration process if the only reward you get from adventuring through deserts, lakes, and mountains is another restaurant-infested cardboard cutout of a town. Somehow tying this all back to the general theme of this issue, it is almost peculiar how much Game Freak prioritized working on this in-game sandwich simulator, Gen IX’s version of the Curry Dex from Sword & Shield. It feels like a different game altogether as the textures of the ingredients are more refined and realistic than the overworld, though that’s not a high bar to pass. There is so much detail put into the variety of sandwich ingredients and the effects they’ll yield, yet the map function, a tool more essential than sandwiches, is rather unintuitive. I didn’t bother with the Picnic feature despite some of the sandwich effects being useful for shiny hunting and breeding as I came to the realization 5 hours in that the game itself was really not that fun, and I focused only on completing the story from then on.

However, this is where the scant amount of praise I have for the game ends. Ignoring the performance issues and

Although I thought Scarlet & Violet were fun at first, I noticed that the games aren’t actually groundbreaking for a Pokémon game. I’ve already experienced an open Pokémon region in Pokémon Legends: Arceus (more on that later) and the battle system is not much different from what we’ve seen for years now except the new Terastallizing gimmick that I also didn’t bother with. I quickly grew bored of SV, though it’s not exactly the fault of the repetitive battle system that has been a staple in Pokémon games. It’s more so that there is a problem with the dumb AI, as well as a lack of level scaling for a game that emphasizes that there is no linear path. Pokémon has never really been known for its difficulty, but the hand holding has only gotten worse. Pokémon’s target audience has always been children, yet stuff like the stupidly simple gym trials are downright insulting to the intelligence of 10 year olds across the world. It’s also a shame that I can’t use a team of my favorite Pokémon the whole duration of the game without them no diffing everyone we meet. Even if I’m not involved with competitive Pokémon at all, I found SV so easy that I had to implement my own rules and restrictions to make the game a real challenge. For a JRPG, there isn’t much going for SV’s gameplay that I wonder why I continue to let myself get disappointed by

these modern messes. Although they lack the adorable and cool creatures known as Pokémon, there are plenty of other JRPG series on the Switch I get more enjoyment out of like Octopath Traveler, Shin Megami Tensei, Fire Emblem, and now the long-awaited Persona.

PLA’s changes are great, but the game takes real risks experimenting with the battle system and Pokémon lore. It’s a sign that Game Freak may actually be open for change, and I’m all for it. I’m hoping that Game Freak takes notes from the innovations of PLA rather than SV, though I’m not so sure anymore given the recent success of SV’s sales.

But let’s not compare oranges and grapes here, and instead look into how Pokémon Scarlet & Violet fares against the other ambitious Pokémon project that is Pokémon Legends: Arceus. We can speculate that the two games being developed at the same time led to both games suffering from quality issues, but only one of them unquestionably stands out by making the effort to experiment with truly brilliant ideas I want to see improved on in future games. Some may remember my slightly scathing article on PLA, but my opinions on the game have changed as PLA looks like a gem in comparison to SV. I really took PLA for granted, and expected it to be the norm for Pokémon games, but SV backpedaled away from the swift pace of PLA for some unknown reason. In PLA, you can catch Pokémon without the need to battle, and even if you initiate one, text and battle animations play in tandem, which makes the battles much less slower. Back in the overworld of Hisui, you can easily scroll through your items and party on the fly to prepare for whatever wild Pokémon awaits you. Speaking of which, there are so many neat interactions involving the dangerous wild Pokémon from them attacking you to intruding on battles that the world feels genuinely alive.

Meanwhile Scarlet & Violet are like watered down versions of Pokémon Legends: Arceus that can often be infuriating to play. While Miraidon is easier to maneuver with than Hisui’s ride Pokémon, going from battle to battle in Paldea feels like a slog. The process of sneaking on Pokémon isn’t the same in SV as doing so initiates a battle anyways. Additionally, being forced into battle just by touching a Pokémon is so annoying to the point that I have to weave around them carefully to not start off a five second time waster. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve run into a small Flittle or Tadbulb, or been immediately sent into battle with another wild Pokémon just because their model was overlapping mine after finishing a previous battle. I could go on and on about how much less immersive SV is than PLA, but the fact of the matter is that so many substantial quality of life features are absent in SV that you would think it’s a beta test for PLA. Like I discussed in my previous Pokémon article, I don’t necessarily agree all of

As it stands, Scarlet & Violet have now become the fastest-selling video games in Nintendo’s history despite their obvious flaws. The animations are still incredibly lazy, textures are downright criminal, and post-game content is practically nonexistent compared to what the DS games had to offer (most likely reserved for future DLC to make money). These complaints aren’t anything new as people have been pointing out the same faults for so many years that it feels like they’re beating a dead Mudbray. Furthermore, these same people who carry genuine criticisms for the games and voice them online only make up a miniscule portion of Pokémon fans. I echo the same resentments they carry towards the direction Game Freak and The Pokémon Company have been taking with the Pokémon franchise. We want the best for the games, but not like this.

At this point, nothing will ever discourage Game Freak or The Pokémon Company from pumping out game after game if they’re able to get away with publishing a game with the most technical problems I have ever seen in any AAA Nintendo title. Why should they implement any quality of life changes if the vast majority of consumers will purchase anything Pokémon related without a second thought? Pokémon is no longer just about the games as the brand has become too massive to fail. The depressing truth is that we are stuck with this annual cycle of unoptimized Pokémon games, a cash Miltank that will forever be milked, which promote the anime and merchandise that follow.

I find it hard to believe that this is the same Game Freak who once developed Platinum, HeartGold & SoulSilver, and Black & White—some of the best the series has to offer— in three consecutive years. Having been an avid Pokémon fan since Emerald, I am not happy in the least having to write about the sad state of the Pokémon franchise, but it’s painfully clear that a year’s time is nowhere close enough to develop Pokémon games for modern hardware. These development restrictions have been plaguing the Pokémon game series, and the passion for producing actually fulfilling games seem lost in favor of corporate greed. It may have been like this since the beginning as there are always two—and sometimes three—very similar games released each generation, but I feel it should be said that this is the lowest Game Freak and The Pokémon Company have stooped by releasing the technical embarrassment that is Pokémon Scarlet & Violet

Pokemon with Octopath Traveler’s graphics would be a dream come true.

At least Scarlet & Violet gave us the beauty that is Dudunsparce.

THE LAST HURRAH

TONY T. 3rd Year, Economics and Data Science Happy New Year!

Kyoto Animation has come a long way in the last twenty years. Once a studio that focused primarily on assisting other groups’ productions, their production of the more comedic Full Metal Panic spinoff, Fumoffu, followed by the smash hit that was Suzumiya Haruhi has resulted in KyoAni being revered as perhaps the most respected animation studio with notably high production values on seemingly everything they touch. In my view, the first decade or so of the studio’s post-Fumoffu era contain their best work, which includes several of my favorite anime of all time. While I find Munto to be just alright and nothing that astounding, I do admire it as a clear work of passion from Kyoto Animation as it received several follow ups in spite of lackluster sales. Still, this is also probably the only context in which I have anything to say on Munto. Like the majority of people who’ve seen it, which has surprisingly dwindled in the last few years or so, I heavily enjoyed Suzumiya Haruhi with its unique mix of quirks and ideas. Skipping over Clannad which I disliked, though, my absolute favorite works from the studio are Lucky Star and K-On!, the former a fairly humorous comedy on the state of otaku culture in the late 2000s, and the latter being the most touching story of coming of age and friendship I’ve ever seen.

With that said, Kyoto Animation’s releases in the ten years since haven’t been nearly as enjoyable. I’m rather ambivalent on Free!, but I’ve downright disliked most of their material since the 2010s due to being rather forgettable and stale works that I find generally bank on being well produced. Series like Dragon Maid, Hibike Euphonium, Chunibyo, Violet Evergarden or Kyoukai no Kanata completely failed to intrigue me in the slightest as I think I’ve seen every idea within them done far better. Heck, I’ve seen many of the same concepts done better within Kyoto Animation’s own catalog. In my view, the only reason why they’re in any way notable is in their excellent production standards, which I find means nothing when the material is itself dull.

I would consider Tamako Market to be the last series in Kyoto Animation’s golden age, even if the chronological boundaries are a bit fuzzy (Hyouka and Chunibyo were released before Tamako). From the team of K-On!, Tamako Market appears on the surface to be somewhat similar to its predecessor, but stands out with a stronger focus on atmosphere and setting. K-On! featured many notable locations that remained memorable to me throughout its runtime, but Tamako Market really emphasizes this factor more with its world feeling truly alive and immersive. This is perhaps at the detriment of characterization, a factor that prevents me from enjoying Tamako quite as much as K-On!,

but the series are fundamentally different in scope. Now, this isn’t like comparing, say, philosophy and nuclear engineering or anything. At the end of the day, both series are still fundamentally slice of life anime. However, where K-On! focused heavily on the life of its characters in association with each other in a social context, Tamako Market focuses far more on displaying the actual feel of living in its location. Put simply, K-On! brings viewers into a specific dynamic in a social manner whereas Tamako emphasizes less narratively driven elements like the overall mood of something as simple as walking down the street. In this way, while I prefer K-On! due to its phenomenal story and characterization, I actually find Tamako Market to be a far easier watch because it’s more of a tone piece than anything else. Having visited various markets in Japan before, the series does an excellent job of depicting the feel that they exude, at least from my limited perspective. From the cluttered yet charming assortment of various stores to the overall secluded but cozy feel of the overall marketplace, Tamako Market succeeds primarily due to its use of atmosphere.

Though Tamako Love Story, the film sequel, makes what I consider to be a strange decision to focus far more on character dynamics, it still works for me as the final work in my favorite era of Kyoto Animation. Tamako Market is not nearly as strong with characterization as K-On!, but that doesn’t inherently make Love Story terrible as it picks up with some pieces scattered throughout the series. Actually, in many ways, I find that Love Story’s more serious usage of plot elements left ambiguous within Market somewhat mirrors how Kyoto Animation’s Suzumiya Haruhi is a slightly more serious take on vaguely otaku concepts in comparison to the goofier Lucky Star. In this way, Love Story is probably inferior to Market with its focus on different ideas, but it still works fairly well while also still embodying some of the tonal aspects of the preceding work. As a romance, Love Story is kind of by the books as far as anime is concerned, but that isn’t necessarily terrible as the film does a standard romance fairly well. I daresay the conventionality of Tamako Love Story’s romantic dynamics might itself be the entire point of the work, given the title. It’s not trying to revolutionize love stories as it simply is a love story utilizing and incorporating elements from Tamako Market, and in that way, it largely succeeds as an accompanying film.

As a whole, Tamako Market and Love Story work phenomenally as a pair of works that embody the spirit of Kyoto Animation in the 2000s. Beyond that, they both feature the extremely strong production values of some of the studio’s later works in the 2010s and beyond. Your mileage will obviously vary – most people thoroughly enjoy the newer KyoAni works that I generally lambast and therefore might disagree with my assessment of some of the earlier material. Still, even outside of the context of their creation, Tamako Market and Love Story is an extremely fun little series that embody the best aspects of slice of life anime.

Managing Editor

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