Text
I enjoyed your observation on End of Evangelion. Me, personally, I did not like how pretty much the whole show and even the film, too, does not tie up loose ends. Rather, it is up to the audience's interpretation on how they feel about the show and how they would've liked for it to end in their eyes, I'm assuming in an effort to appease the majority. Nonetheless, I respect the anime for what it is and I liked the message of pushing Shinji to self-acceptance by the end of the show.
The End of Evangelion
The End of Evangelion is a violent, disorganized, and emotionally unvarnished conclusion to the Evangelion narrative that defies simple explanations. In contrast to the original series' reflective and symbolic conclusion, this movie uses apocalyptic violence, death, and psychological collapse to externalize the internal conflict. It's obviously a reaction to criticism from the audience, but it also delves deeper into the show's central issues: What does the term "human" mean? Can we choose individuality over phony unity while still enduring pain? The film tackles existential dread, postwar Japanese trauma, and the breakdown of meaning in an overly modern society. Fears of conformity and annihilation are echoed by the widespread death and destruction as well as the disintegration of human consciousness into a single collective soul. The conflict between individual identity and collectivism in Japan seems to be at the heart of this. Both a yearning for connection and a desire to escape the agony of selfhood are symbolized by instrumentality, the process of fusing all souls into one. However, Shinji's ultimate choice to return to a fragmented, personal reality rather than a serene, cohesive dream seems to reject that erasure. Personally, I wasn't prepared for how much this movie affected me. Shinji's despair, remorse, and anxiety about being harmed by others struck a chord with me. Although it is painful to watch, the scenes of emotional and physical breakdown—particularly Asuka's vicious battle and Shinji's breakdown in the hospital—show how trauma, depression, and loneliness can warp a person's perception of reality. It's easy to feel like Shinji in college, where everyone is figuring themselves out and frequently conceals their pain behind busy schedules or silence. Shinji craves connection but fears rejection. Shinji's decision to live despite her suffering is ultimately a peculiar yet lovely message. It's a real ending, but not a happy one. We are forced to confront ourselves in The End of Evangelion, yet we still decide to live.
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
End of Evangelion
The End of Evangelion had to be produced for fans of Neon Genesis Evangelion that needed a traditional ending to the show. In their defense, the original show ended on a serious cliffhanger by only focusing on Shinji’s character development. The character development for Shinji needed to happen, and it only set up a perfect platform for a movie to be made.
At the end of the film, Shinji wakes up on a beach with shrapnel surrounding him. Asuka is next to him, and Shinji begins to strangle her. This could’ve been done because he wasn’t sure if it was actually her or if he was seeing things. Asuka touches his face gently and says, “how disgusting” and then the movie ends. This ending is up in the air for interpretation, but me personally, I believe Shinji only did this to validate if she was real or not without trying to read too deeply into it.
End of Evangelion was a good film to watch, but there are so many unanswered questions for the fans to just interpret on their own. The Human Instrumentality Project was never explained in full detail. Was the beach scene a new life, or the end of humanity? I believe this show was written in this specific way so that anyone watching this anime could enjoy it how they would like for it to play out in their own head. At the end of the day, I reckon that’s what makes a good film “good” anyways.
Neon Genesis Evangelion and End of Evangelion are good for what they are, but they do not compare to other anime that has been presented in the show. My favorite ones so far would still have to be Sword Art Online and Naruto. Yet, with many anime, I respect it for what it is and I appreciate the message that Neon Genesis Evangelion pushed, that being it’s okay to be in touch with your emotional, vulnerable side because that is what makes you human.
0 notes
Text
Shinji's self-acceptance of not being able to, I guess, adhere to societal expectations of being a manly hero is a good note to leave off on for viewers at home. The audience takes in that it is okay to have flaws and accept yourself for who you are, a narrative that Neon Genesis Evangelion ends strongly on.
Neon Genesis Evangelion (1995): Masculinity and Self-Acceptance
[Part 2]
The Part 2 viewing of Neon Genesis Evangelion took an existential turn, highlighting significant character development in Shinji.
In my first viewing and post, I focused on understanding Shinji’s character. I determined he is timid, indecisive, passive, submissive, self-conscious, and childish. His insecurity is evident in how he makes excuses for his behavior and seeks validation from others to derive self-worth. In these four episodes, I paid closer attention to how others respond to Shinji—particularly his failure to align with traditional masculine traits.
I noticed that those around him either grow frustrated with or enable his self-loathing. Asuka (the Second Child) treats Shinji much like Katsuragi did in the Part 1 viewings—calling him a “wimp,” speaking to him condescendingly, and feeling the need to direct him due to his passivity. It almost feels as though traditional gender roles are reversed, with Shinji’s lack of hegemonic masculinity leading the women around him to adopt more dominant roles.
However, in the final episode, we see Shinji’s redemption. He undergoes an unexplained, psychedelic soul-searching experience, confronting what it means to be an individual, to exist, and to navigate the fears tied to both. Most importantly, he faces his self-rejection, which fuels his fear of being rejected by others. One striking quote from this sequence is, “You understand your own shape through examining how different you are from others” (Episode 24, 14:00). This suggests that his sense of inadequacy stems from perceiving himself as atypical compared to the masculine ideal. However, the real source of his suffering is his own perception. By shifting how he sees himself in relation to others, Shinji can ultimately choose to free himself through self-acceptance.
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
Evangelion 2
In the second part of Neon Genesis Evangelion, we see tensions rise that can argue for Shinji’s insecurity about his masculinity. While it is not the focus of the show, it’s evident that it is a silent subplot that the audience picks up on and could possibly relate to. Throughout the latter half of the season, Shinji tries to match societal expectations of masculinity.
Episode eight introduces Asuka, a pilot in the show that challenges Shinji’s sense of masculinity. Asuka, on one hand, has an aggressive approach to fighting, whereas Shinji’s style of fighting is a lot more passive. Asuka bullies Shinji throughout the episode, calling him Baka Shinji. Together, they fight Gaghiel, yet Shinji feels insecure fighting alongside Asuka because she asserts a sort of masculine dominance over him that Shinji does not possess. This is not the only case of this happening with Shinji.
Going back to my part one evaluation of Shinji, he struggles early on when it comes to fighting even his first angel, Sachiel. Shinji has difficulty coming to terms with his own power and controlling his own unit, which could make him feel belittled. If anything, Shinji is just more aware of the situation at hand and does not necessarily agree with what is happening, but knows it must be done. It boils down to a matter of fact that Shinji being more in touch with his “vulnerable” side is better for his character development than becoming a more masculine version of himself.
Neon Genesis Evangelion ends off with a focus on Shinji and his journey of finding who he is. Shinji comes to terms with who he is as an emotionally aware person. The final episode ends philosophically, with the fate of humanity in the viewers’ hands—that is, until End of Evangelion.
0 notes
Text
Captain Katsuragi comes across as delivering toxic masculinity to Shinji, yet he is just forwarding the messages that were passed on to him. I would vouch for the idea that Shinji does not have any toxic masculinity and gets made fun of for the wrong thing: caring.
Neon Genesis Evangelion (1995) and Masculinity
[Part 1]
This was my first time watching Neon Genesis Evangelion, and I have to admit, I’m still a little lost regarding the show's overall plot. However, one thing is clear: the protagonist, Shinji, appears to fit into one of the categories described by Heasley in Queer Masculinities of Straight Men.
Shinji is a socially awkward 14-year-old boy tasked with piloting a giant robot—known as an EVA, or Evangelion—to fight off monstrous beings called “Angels” that threaten his city. However, he is initially hesitant to take on this role. His father, the commander of NERV, leads the fight against the Angels, yet their relationship is strained. Specifically, they haven’t seen each other in years, and Shinji does not live under his father’s care. When his father is mentioned, Shinji reacts uneasily, and at one point, he dramatically laments, “I knew it, nobody wants me” (Episode 1, 17:00) after refusing to pilot the Eva. Could this remark reflect Shinji’s insecurity about failing to embody hegemonic masculinity and make his father proud?
Shinji may fall into Heasley’s categories of “Males Living in the Shadow of Masculinity” or “Straight Sissy Boys.” His lack of assertiveness and confidence—qualities often associated with traditional masculinity—becomes evident through repeated taunts from Captain Misako Katsuragi, who tells him, “Just deal with it, come on, be a big boy” (Episode 1, 19:41) and “Grow a spine, show some grit, be a big boy for once” (Episode 2, 14:22). These comments highlight Shinji’s perceived non-masculinity. Alternatively, one might argue that his reluctance to confront difficult situations is simply part of his personality rather than a reflection of masculinity at all.
Notably, Shinji does not display any stereotypically “masculine” behavior, such as objectifying girls alongside his peers. While no evidence in the show suggests he is gay or romantically interested in other males, his interactions with women reveal a sensitivity that contrasts with traditional male behavior. For instance, rather than focusing on Rei Ayanami’s thighs, he instead fixates on the fact that she is often alone.
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
Evangelion 1
Neon Genesis Evangelion is an anime that reminds me of First Gundam, hence the use of the mechas in both. Moreso, the robots in Neon Genesis Evangelion that Shinji and Rei pilot, fight angels to prevent them from reaching Lilith and triggering the third impact. Yet, with this anime in particular, Neon Genesis Evangelion displays themes of how the mental toll of combat damages a person’s mental state. Unlike First Gundam, which focuses more on war itself, Evangelion digs deeper into the pilots’ emotional struggles. This gives their battles a more personal feel and a chance for viewers to understand where the pilots are coming from.
For example, Ramiel in the fifth episode puts Shinji to the test when they battle. Ramiel has a very powerful energy beam that nearly kills Shinji instantly. With this in mind, and dating back to the other fight against Sachiel, there is always a cost at hand when it comes to war, that being life. This is taken into consideration by the characters and also put on display with how they display their emotions and thoughts about fighting in the first place, facing emotional struggles. Similar connections can be made from Neon Genesis Evangelion to Barefoot Gen and First Gundam, with all three-anime revolving around the key theme of forced combat resulting in permanent trauma and emotional damage.
Angels are painted as the antagonist so far, yet they don’t entirely seem to be in the wrong. The main incorrect motive from these angels seems to be wanting to reach Lilith, which would wipe out humans and pave way for the angels to shape the Earth how they would like. At a certain point, the angels may simply be acting out of defense and willingness to survive.
0 notes
Text
Good point by stating that conventions are a sort of safe space for otaku fans. Most often, otaku fans are bullied for what they enjoy and going to a convention that holds everyone with similar interests keeps them away from any negativity.
True Otaku (2011): Insights into Fan Conventions
True Otaku offers an intriguing look into a segment of the American otaku community, focusing on Otakon and Anime USA––two conventions held yearly in Baltimore and D.C., respectively. The documentary provides insights not only into fandom but also into several other topics we've discussed in class, including fantasy/simulation, consumerism, gender performativity, and discrimination.
As might be expected from a documentary about fans, the film thoroughly explores what it means to be one. Several attendees of Otakon were interviewed about their personal definitions of otaku, with most describing it as a deep passion for manga, anime, video games, or other aspects of Japanese culture. Some even used words like "obsessed" and "hardcore," while others acknowledged the term's negative connotation in Japan, where it can be associated with social isolation. These perspectives highlight the fine line between a healthy enthusiasm for an interest and a potentially unhealthy attachment to it. Regardless, it is evident that otaku events provide a space where individuals with shared passions can come together and experience a sense of belonging.
One of the most compelling aspects explored in the documentary is the role of fantasy and simulation, particularly through cosplay. Cosplayers invest significant time and effort into creating realistic depictions of characters from anime, manga, or video games, with many even embodying their characters’ personalities. Iris, also known as Dust Bunny, discusses maintaining a fitness routine specifically to align with the characters she portrays. This raises the question: why go to such lengths to embody a fictional character? Many cosplayers mentioned enjoying the attention they receive while in costume, suggesting that cosplay might fulfill an unmet need for visibility, acceptance, and affirmation. Otaku events appear to serve as an ideal space for fulfilling this need, as the community thrives on mutual appreciation and recognition of effort.
The documentary also sheds light on the consumer culture surrounding otaku events. As noted in the film, the entire bottom floor of the convention center was transformed into a marketplace selling all sorts of anime and manga-related merchandise, including masks, costumes, manga, fan art, and toys. Some interviewees remarked on the amount of money attendees spend at conventions, sometimes to excess. Additionally, following Dust Bunny’s journey, we see the significant resources—money, time, and creative energy—invested in cosplay. At one point, a comment is made about how most cosplayers don’t stop after their first costume, hinting at the cyclical nature of consumerism and the continual desire for more.
Another key theme addressed in the documentary is discrimination. One attendee, who attended with her two sons, saw conventions as a safe space for those who might feel misunderstood or marginalized in everyday life. Many attendees described conventions as places where they could "be their authentic selves" and "let loose." One interviewee stated, "You can put yourself out there, and it's okay. Maybe on the streets, you won’t be accepted, but you go into a convention, and everyone will respect you for what you’ve done” (Part 1, 18:58). This suggests that otaku conventions function not only as gathering spaces for fans but also as inclusive environments where individuals can find acceptance and validation.
Gender performativity also emerges as a notable theme at these conventions. As previously mentioned, cosplay plays a central role in these events, showcasing a variety of styles. Many attendees embraced the Lolita fashion aesthetic, characterized by its ultra-feminine frills and lace. One cosplayer, dressed as Princess Peach from the Mario video game series, expressed enjoyment in adopting the hyper-feminine persona of the character, despite typically presenting in a more masculine way in daily life. The documentary also highlights the acceptance of cross-dressing within the community, allowing individuals to explore and engage in gender expression beyond societal norms. This suggests that, for some, conventions offer a space to experiment with gender identity in ways that may not be as easily accessible in everyday life.
Finally, the documentary briefly touches on how anime, manga, and otaku conventions contribute to Japan’s soft power. These conventions play a role in the "Cool Japan" movement, enhancing Japan’s cultural influence abroad. A Japanese cultural diplomat featured in the film even notes that such events help "build bridges" between cultures, illustrating the global impact of Japanese media and fan culture.
Overall, True Otaku provides a fascinating exploration of American otaku conventions, showcasing the diverse artistic expressions celebrated within these spaces while offering insight into the fan experience. Additionally, the documentary thoughtfully integrates key concepts discussed in our course, making it both an engaging and intellectually enriching study of fandom culture.
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
True Otaku
I have not personally been to a convention of the sorts before, yet I have heard how social and fun they can be. Therefore, I have decided to write about the docuseries provided on YouTube, True Otaku. True Otaku explains what it means to be otaku, and what helps drive their passion to being one. This docuseries highlights the dedication, the time, and the passion that anime and manga fans bring to conventions, showing how they connect with the culture. It also explores the impact of said conventions by displaying cosplay and the mechanics behind building their own.
There are three parts to the docuseries. The first part is an introduction to what an otaku is and why the conventions are held. In Japan, the word Otaku often carries a negative connotation of obsessive fandom, but in the United States, it has been embraced by anime enthusiasts as something to be proud of. Also, this part delves into the origins of anime’s popularity in America, highlighting how Dragon Ball, Z, Sailor Moon, and Neon Genesis Evangelion captivated American audiences in the 1990s or early 2000s. Part one wraps up with explaining how anime conventions serve as a hub for Otaku culture. Events like Otakon or anime USA serve as conventions where fans can cosplay, participate in panels, and overall express their love for anime and manga. Attendees share personal stories about their first conventions in the sense of belonging they found within the fandom.
Moving on to part two, this part of the documentary focuses on the sense of community within the otaku culture, particularly through cosplay. Cosplay allows fans to embody their favorite anime, manga, and video game characters through hyper-realistic costumes that often mirror the anime/manga quite well. The video then goes on to follow several dedicated cosplayers as they prepare for conventions detailing the process behind making their costumes and the excitement of performing as their favorite anime character. The cosplayers interviewed in this part discuss how cosplay serves as a form of self-expression. Many describe how dressing up as their favorite characters gives them confidence and helps them connect with others who share similar interests. Also, this part examines the challenges of cosplay, including the time spent, money spent, and skill required to craft these hyper realistic outfits.
The final part focuses on the future of otaku culture in America. Highlighting notable moments in the future of anime would be Crunchyroll and Kissanime, opening the door to anime consumption and making it that much more accessible by making it free and online. Alongside this would include the commercialization of anime as a whole, and the pros and cons that coincide with it. Commercialization helps to publicize anime and make merchandise more available, but this could be an issue with how corporate influence could alter the community-driven experience of going through a convention process, such as personally creating their own merchandise and costumes. The closing moments of the docuseries includes a message inviting people that are curious about otaku culture to celebrate their love for anime however they would please.
True Otaku was an interesting documentary to watch, coming from someone that has never been to an anime convention before. This docuseries emphasizes the profound impact that Japanese media has had on America. Through interviews and personal stories, the film captures what it truly means to be an otaku: someone who finds happiness and friendships through a shared passion for anime and manga.
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
A gravitating anime that focuses on pivotal middle school years and finding out who you truly are as a person is an instant classic that earns my respect. For example, Shuichi's parents being so career-driven and not giving their own son attention is a leading reason why Shuichi's self-esteem is so low in the first place. Yet, Shuichi found who he was during these times, and that's what I love Wandering Son for.
Wandering Son
One of the most sensitive and emotionally honest anime series I've ever seen is Wandering Son (Hourou Musuko). Yoshino, a transgender boy, and Shuichi, a transgender girl, are two middle school students who must navigate their gender identities in a society that isn't quite sure how to comprehend them. This anime is notable for its delicate treatment of such a delicate and intimate subject. It allows for intimate moments, internal conflicts, and silent braveries without hurrying or exaggerating. The series is quite revolutionary in the context of Japanese society. In Japan, gender nonconformity is still frequently viewed as taboo or misinterpreted, particularly by young people. Queer youth frequently lack safe spaces to explore or express their identities, and mainstream representation is scarce. The show's themes—misgendering, societal expectations, and internalized confusion—are equally pertinent on a global scale. Around the world, trans and gender nonconforming people experience stigma, exclusion, and ignorance, particularly in educational settings. Despite the fact that I do not personally identify as transgender, I found the show to be very relatable in terms of feeling uncomfortable and uncertain about my identity. Wandering Son tells a story that many people never see reflected on screen while also capturing the awkwardness that everyone experiences during middle school. The tone is further enhanced by the visual style, which features gentle pastel hues that complement the serene, reflective ambiance. It brought to mind some of our readings that discuss how gender is performative and how society forces people into inflexible roles. That is resisted by Wandering Son, and it does so thoughtfully and compassionately. It's the kind of story that lingers in your mind long after the last scene ends, not because it's ostentatious or dramatic, but rather because it touches on a universal human need: the need to be recognized, loved, and accepted for who we really are.
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
Wandering Son
Wandering Son is an anime that focuses on Shuchi Nitori, a transgender girl, and Yoshino Takatsuki, a transgender boy. This anime goes through how these two navigate the challenges of young adulthood, finding friends, and how society perceives them. This takes place during their middle school years, which are very pivotal years in life when it comes to finding out who you are as a person and what you want your future to be.
I’ve witnessed this firsthand all throughout middle school and my early high school years. I grew up with the same people I went to elementary, middle, and high school with, and I saw the most change and evolution happen during these middle school years. I did not encounter anyone coming out as transgender, though I did have best friends that had come out to me as gay/lesbian at the time. It’s unfortunate that people feel the need to “come out” in the first place, suggesting that they have to hide it from society out of fear of judgement and perception of their own peers.
This is why I enjoyed Wandering Son. Wandering Son expands on how Shuichi and Yoshino go about their gender identities and the complexities behind it, such as trying to please societal norms, all while facing their own personal doubts and disapproval from their family members. Wandering Son portrays their journey with sensitivity and realism, allowing its’ audience to connect with their struggles and emotions as the anime progresses. The character development between the two by the end of the show is remarkable and well-written.
Wandering Son is a great anime that shows what goes on during middle school years that many either forgot about or don’t realize. This anime highlights the importance of understanding and supporting those who are looking for their identities. Everyone deserves to feel seen, accepted, respected, and valued for who they truly are, since we are all human and shouldn’t be judged for who they are.
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
Sailor Moon was a personal favorite of mine when entering high school. I was just then getting into anime for the first time and it was referred to as an "entry-level" anime to me at the time. I enjoy the multiple sublte layers and themes that the show eludes to its' audience.
Sailor Moon (1992) and Girl Power
Rewatching Sailor Moon was a nostalgic experience for me, as it was a series I loved growing up. Seeing it again now, I can better understand why I related to it so much as a girl. Many of Usagi’s struggles reflect the “hardships” of teenage girls—worrying about appearance, balancing school, friendships, and crushes, and trying to stay emotionally stable amid waves of hormones. While I don’t fully agree with Newsom’s take in Young Females as Super Heroes: Super Heroines in the Animated Sailor Moon, I do agree the show exudes a unique and inspiring kind of “girl power.”
The series follows Usagi Tsukino, a 14-year-old middle schooler who is, by most standards, quite ordinary. She struggles academically, is often clumsy, and lacks confidence. However, in Episode 1, she encounters a talking cat named Luna, who grants her a magical brooch that allows her to transform into Sailor Moon. In this superhero form, she is tasked with fighting evil—often entities that prey upon young women. Though she isn’t the most empowered hero from the start, with encouragement from Luna and the mysterious Tuxedo Mask, she manages to show bravery and defeat her enemies. Interestingly, many of the villains—including the main antagonist, Chaos—are also female. This deviates from the common feminist narrative of an oppressive male figure and instead presents a world where both good and evil are embodied by women.
While Sailor Moon initially reacts with fear and sensitivity when faced with danger, she ultimately overcomes these emotions and channels them into powerful attacks. Her signature and stylish move involving her tiara obliterates enemies in their tracks. Sailor Moon’s journey—from self-doubt to courageous action—embodies a form of girl power that doesn’t reject vulnerability but instead transforms it into strength. Her ability to embrace her emotions and femininity while still standing up to evil was something that truly resonated with me as a young girl.
7 notes
·
View notes
Text
Sailor Moon
Perhaps the anime that I have been most familiar with so far, Sailor Moon is a personal favorite of mine that I indulged in during high school, specifically my freshman year. Sailor Moon is an anime about Usagi Tsukino, a 14-year-old girl who discovers she is, in fact, Sailor Moon, a warrior that is destined to protect the world from evil, such as Queen Beryl.
Despite being Sailor Moon, she still tries to maintain a regular life through dealing with school, friendships, crushes, etc. In her day-to-day life. Usagi’s friend group, The Sailor Scouts, have a strong bond that many entry-level high schoolers seek out. The show isn’t entirely relatable on the surface, but it does give subtle references.
Luna is a talking cat in Sailor Moon. She reveals to Usagi that she is Sailor Moon and plays an important role in Usagi’s character development throughout the show. Luna pushes Usagi to embrace her destiny and give herself self-acceptance. She teaches Usagi responsibility and leadership through the usage of her magical powers.
Despite being only fourteen, the show does mirror some aspects of real life, where we suddenly must accept multiple different responsibilities all at once. I shortly got my first job around this same time, along with my permit, dual enrolling classes, and babysitting my little sister. I had to give up many high school perks, like football games every Friday night, to help accommodate my parents that were both working and needed someone to watch my little sister. All this is to agree with the fact that Usagi gained a lot of responsibility, all at once, when Luna showed her, she is Sailor Moon.
Overall, Sailor Moon is a classic when it comes to talking about anime shows and is highly rated among its’ viewers. Even decades after its’ release, it continues to resonate with audiences through its themes of friendship, responsibility, love, and self-discovery.
1 note
·
View note
Text
Considering you and I both work in a restaurant, I'm sure you understand the built-up rage that occurs within Retsuko. There is a karaoke bar in Gainesville that may let us practice what Retsuko does after her shifts.
Aggretsuko
Aggretsuko initially appears to be just another adorable anime with a vibrant world and animal characters. But as soon as you start watching, it's obvious that it's addressing some serious topics, not just about Japanese society but also the stresses of contemporary life globally. Retsuko, a 25-year-old red panda who works a dull, depressing office job, is the main character. She is expected to remain silent and smile all the time, be overworked, and be micromanaged by sexist bosses. She vents her frustration by singing death metal karaoke in secret at night as a coping mechanism. Because it highlights a very real problem, which is the pressure to repress emotions and maintain one's composure in toxic work environments, it is both humorous and depressing. This directly addresses issues with gender inequality, inflexible hierarchies, and an overwork culture in Japan. But to be honest, I can relate even though I'm not from Japan. It feels all too familiar to be under pressure to maintain a positive façade while coping with stress, burnout, and unfair treatment. It brings to mind instances in which I had to keep my mouth shut or conceal my true emotions in order to maintain harmony or appear "mature." Aggretsuko, in my opinion, also resonates well with the concepts of emotional suppression and self-expression that we have covered in class readings. Through quiet rebellion or karaoke, the show serves as a reminder that holding things inside eventually blows up. I truly like how the show strikes a balance between humor and cuteness while also addressing a deeper issue. It serves as a mirror for how many people feel but are hesitant to express it aloud, so it's more than just amusement.
6 notes
·
View notes
Text
Aggretsuko
Aggretsuko is an anime about Retsuko, a panda that works as an accountant. She does not enjoy her job, having to deal with a micromanaging boss and aggravating coworkers. She lets her frustrations throughout her shifts build up until after work, where she sings death metal at the local karaoke bar. It was a funny twist to see her go about her issues this way the first time it happened, I must admit.
Retsuko is pictured as a normal person (or panda, I should say) with a normal job, which makes her relatable to her viewers right off the bat. Working in an environment with constant frustrations is something we can all relate to because we always seem to be watching the clock when we’re at work, just waiting until our time to go home. Working somewhere really determines how your life shapes out to be, considering all the different aspects that need to be upheld. This includes friendships that one may make in the workplace, relationships, how you perceive and present yourself, and how you behave around different coworkers.
Aggretsuko explains how I feel about work most of the time—that being fed-up and over it, waiting to get home. I serve tables to help put me through college, and between some of the tables I must deal with, a manager never satisfied with the work I’m putting in, and the cliques that I must be careful around all the time, I can understand Retsuko’s anger. Perhaps she handles it better than I do by letting it out, because I just let mine continuously build up. I like to think I’m a patient person because of it. I would recommend Aggretsuko to anyone, really, just because of the funny twist with her singing death metal at the end of her shifts and because it is relatable to anyone and everyone.
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
I loved Ogiue's character development. Despite her initial "I hate otaku" mantra, it was really just her masking it at first to test her comfort zone with her new group of friends.
Blog Post: Genshiken (Part II)
The second half and season of Genshiken involves a time-skip. It allows for a focus on change, both in a personal capacity for the anime’s cast, and in how Otaku culture handles change. This is perhaps best seen by the new club members, and older members like Madarame looking for jobs.
Something from the first part of the show I neglected to mention, but that continues into this part is the use of varied animation styles to heighten certain scenes. In the case of this season it’s used to portray the erotic vision of Chika Ogiue, new club member and self proclaimed Otaku hater. The season follows her working with the club to produce a dōjinshi based in her hidden affection for yaoi. In a way her growth throughout these episodes mirrors Sasahara finding acceptance in the club. She uses her hidden passions to process the interactions of Sasahara and Madarame, mirroring Madarame’s earlier efforts to gamify his exchange with Saki.
Ogiue importantly keeps this fantasy of hers separate from reality, a key feature of Otaku culture. There’s been much debate over the perversion of Otaku’s, especially following the infamous Miyazaki Incident. This anime serves to demonstrate that no matter how invested an Otaku may be in their fiction, a healthy sense of realism is needed. In their efforts to posses cultural capital, they make efforts to personalize public works of fiction, taking ownership without loosing control.
An interesting wrinkle this season introduces is the American friends of one of the club members. These demonstrate a dramatized perception of foreign fans, bolstering the show’s portrayal of more “honorable” Otaku culture. Angela is a boisterous, sexually aggressive woman, with an immense fascination for Japanese culture. Her interactions with Madarame can nearly border on abusive in some regards. Sue by contrast is much more reserved, but speaks exclusively in quotes from her favorite Japanese media. While both foreigners are presented as well-functioning individuals, they demonstrate difference of both foreign fandom and the degrees of investment compared to the Otaku.
5 notes
·
View notes
Text
Genshiken 2
In the second season of Genshiken, a new member of the club is introduced, Ogiue Chika. Ogiue has a more complex history with otaku, as she’s gone through bullying in her past because of it. This second season seems to highlight specifically Ogiue and her personal experience through the club.
Ogiue adds a layer to the club, that being Ogiue’s interest with yaoi. Yaoi includes Male-to-male romance, and the club isn’t sure how to react initially. Throughout season two, though, Ogiue goes through a lot of development in the sense that her yaoi drawings are very good pieces of work and works with Sasahara to get them published. At the beginning, though, she claims to hate otaku, despite joining the club and being one herself.
A recurring theme between the two seasons seems to be self-acceptance and love yourself for who you are. The second season itself focuses more on the bonds formed in the club, most notably the arc that Sasahara and Ogiue build together once Ogiue begins to fantasize their possible relationship through a yaoi manga featuring characters based off herself and Sasahara. There’s also the subplot of Harunobu Madarame and Saki, though Madarame never confesses his love for Saki.
Overall, between the two seasons and episodes provided, Genshiken relates to all otakus that struggle with self-acceptance within their peers. The series portrays anime fandom in a funny, exaggerated way. It also does a good job of tipping the scale between personal interests and the expectations that society imposes on them, making members of the club more comfortable in their own positions with their own interests and how they feel.
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
It's interesting to see the comparisons between 2D and real life made by Kousaka, arguing that both are equally as superficial. Maybe Azuma's claim is right after all.
Genshiken (2004) and the Male Otaku Experience [Part 1]
This was my first time watching Genshiken, and overall, I found it to be a humorous and entertaining series. The story revolves around the activities of the Genshiken club, or "The Society for the Study of Modern Visual Culture," primarily seen through the perspective of the protagonist, Kanji Sasahara. The club consists of entirely male students who are deeply obsessed with games, anime, and manga—making them quintessential otaku. A central struggle for the club members seems to be navigating broader society outside the clubroom, as many of them find it difficult to interact with the “mundanes,” or non-otaku individuals.
This anime also provides insight into the fan fiction culture surrounding manga and anime, particularly through doujinshi. In Episode 3, the club visits a comic convention—Sasahara’s first. He appears particularly drawn to exploring the world of adult manga, specifically one featuring a character from Kujibiki Unbalance. Based on a conversation in the clubroom with Saki Kasukabe in Episode 2, it seems that most club members satisfy their romantic or sexual interests through manga rather than real-life relationships, although they generally agree they would like a real-life girlfriend.
Episode 9 humorously depicts Madarame’s failed attempt at a normal social interaction with Saki Kasukabe. Unable to act naturally, he retreats into his thoughts, visualizing his struggle like a video game. Even Makoto Kousaka, who appears more socially well-adjusted, struggles to read his own girlfriend’s emotions and often prioritizes consuming anime, manga, and games over connecting with Kasukabe. This highlights a shared tendency among the otaku characters to disconnect from reality, immersing themselves in the simulacra they construct.
Saki, understandably, expresses concern when she complains about Kousaka keeping pornographic games and manga in his room. She struggles to understand how anyone could be attracted to or sexually stimulated by 2D girls. In response, Madarame points out that her own attraction to Kousaka is arguably just as superficial. This comment is particularly interesting, as it suggests that the tendency to idealize and live within personal, atomized realities—prioritizing an image or representation over something tangible—is not exclusive to otaku but is a broader human experience, supporting the argument that Azuma makes in his analysis Otaku: Japan’s Database Animals.
2 notes
·
View notes