humzariaz

[humzariaz]

Shinji’s emotional reluctancy from fighting kind of reminds me of Naruto who wasn’t much of a fight first guy. I can resonate with Shenji’s character because I often get really indecisive.

Neon Genesis Evangelion

This was my first time watching Neon Genesis Evangelion,  and so far it's been pretty good and I really enjoyed the show.  after reading the article I definitely see how the take on masculinity and what it means to be a man can relate to the show and how since you navigate fighting in a war and being used as a tool.  I feel like Shinji is a representation of different forms of masculinity and the way that he acts,  while his father would represent a more traditional form of masculinity. in the beginning of the show we see how he looks up to his dad and thinks he's a great person and goes to visit him but then his dad when he sees him he uses him as a soldier and casts his son into the Evangelion against his will. In the first article when Connell’s talks about the framework of hegemonic masculinity and subordinate masculinity, we can see how this relates to Shinji and his father.  I feel like when looking at Shinji’s character we really see more of a subordinate masculinity. I feel like he's very different from a lot of traditional anime heroes as he's not big on fighting and he's a lot more emotional and reluctant to participate in the war. Feel like his passive nature really goes against the hegemonic masculinity traits which expect me to be strong decisive and in control which also relates to his dad a lot more.  as you see his dad is like very strict and not afraid to get it done.  I also feel like as it relates to the second article since he does show a lot more queer traits. I like how emotional he is and how vulnerable he gets and crashes about certain things like at the beginning of the show. I feel like this is a show that I definitely would want to watch straight through and really see what happens I'm really looking forward to it and I want to see what's to come.

[humzariaz]

Neon Genesis Evangelion part I

Neon Genesis Evangelion is one of those anime that people love telling me to watch. I was a little confused at first by the anime but if you replace teenage struggles with giant biomechanical nightmares, it’s a little easier to understand.

Episode 2 sets the tone for Shinji’s internal battles. The first Angel he fights, Sachiel, represents that first shock of stepping into the world alone—an early stage of growing up. It’s awkward, painful, and Shinji barely scrapes by, like a kid trying to navigate life outside their comfort zone. But the second Angel fight? Oh, now that’s something else entirely. Shamshel, a long cock beast (yeah….) represents something different, a fight with masculinity and self worth. Shinji isn’t just battling some alien creature; he’s wrestling with where he stands among other boys his age, his place in the world, and his father’s expectations. And, of course, he kills it with a single, aggressive stab, symbolizing great “masculinity”

The show got really explicit I feel in episode in episode 5.The way the show handles explicit themes like Shinji’s growing awareness of Rei and the awkwardness of male and female relationships makes sense. That shot of Rei stepping out of the shower was uncomfortable on purpose. It’s about portraying that messy, confusing teenage curiosity. This is Evangelion showing us how the teenage years can be full of weird, uncomfortable moments.

What makes this format so appealing and easy to keep watching is how each Angel battle ties into Shinji’s emotional and psychological growth, mirroring those years of self discovery in high school. I think I’ll keep watching the rest of the anime too whenever I get the time.

[humzariaz]

I like your mention of the bystander affect. It never clicked how much pressure the person who decides to step up faces. They’ll now be known for leading the change or acting as a role model for others. Most of the characters in the anime tried to avoid taking these steps and often depended on others to lead the way.

Wandering Son

Wandering Son discusses the concepts of identity, belonging, and self-esteem when characters who struggle with processing these conflicting emotions need to learn how to handle them in a conservative society where it is not socially accepted as the "norm". Doi's supportive attitude towards Nitori's choice to act feminine in private contradicts his antagonistic verbal statements targeted towards Nitori when they're surrounded by others in the same room. I personally view this as a visual representation of internalized insecurity regarding fragile masculinity. Even though Doi may feel like Nitori should embrace what makes them truly comfortable in their own skin, Doi may only have the confidence to think so in private to himself. In the context where he is in a public setting, the pressure of fitting in with the rest of society or unwillingness to be a potential outcast overshadows his eagerness to help Nitori. Doi and Nitori's situation might be a theme that the author was trying to convey, where if nobody has to confidence to step up and stand for their beliefs, then a change will never happen. We see this often and consider it as the "bystander effect", where everyone waits for another person to initiate a reform. The reason why this bystander effect is so common is because the person who assumes that leadership position is also assuming the most responsibility for stepping out of the "norm". That responsibility is intimidating for most people, where the burden of irresponsibility comes at the cost of ostracization. It was interesting to see the attitudes people had of Nitori's femininity compared to their reactions to Takatsuki wishing to be more masculine. We see this commonly reflected in real life as well, where girls who act masculine are labeled as "tomboys" and treat it like a phase. It feels belittling and, in a way, very superficial where girls who genuinely feel more comfortable in their masculinity are not taken seriously and often objectified and labeled by their masculinity as well. Men who act feminine are shunned on a deeper level, and they are called weak, disgusting, and perverted. They are treated as subhuman, and not even worthy of being acknowledged. This is deeply rooted in generational patriarchal mindsets that have become the norm where the head of the family (almost always a male head), must be strong, reliable, and intelligent to be able to provide for the entire family. Throughout history, these have been traits that described primarily men, (only boys had the privilege of going to school, expected to be leaders, etc.), and this structure is improbable at the hands of a man who has traits of a woman. I think Wandering Son provides important insight on how we see these dynamics that pose an issue even in social circles as young as middle schoolers.

[humzariaz]

Wandering Son

The anime does an amazing job showing how society expects gender, biological sex, and sexuality to line up perfectly when in reality, they don’t. We get to see see how Nitori and others struggle with who they are versus what the world expects from them.

One scene really sticks out: Nitori, who is a trans girl, apologizes to a random man in a feminine way. The guy is totally fine with it because he assumes Nitori is a girl. If he had known she was assigned male at birth, his reaction probably would’ve been very different. This moment highlights something big of how people aren’t necessarily okay with femininity in general, they’re just okay with it when it “matches” what they expect.

The show also makes it clear that you can’t opt out of gender. Society forces it on you. People assume Nitori is a boy and expect her to act like one, even though that’s not who she is. On the flip side, there are characters who are more gender nonconforming, and they also face pushback because they don’t fit into the neat little boxes people want them to.

A lot of older ideas about gender assume that if you’re assigned male at birth, you must be a man, must be masculine, and must be attracted to women (or vice versa for those assigned female). But the anime challenges that and shows that gender, sex, and sexuality are all different things. You can be feminine, have a male body, and be attracted to women. You can be masculine, have a female body, and like men. None of these things dictate the others.

[humzariaz]

I was so surprised to see Retsuko be so composed all the time. I feel like even if her boss was a lady, she’d still be under the pressure to bottle in her emotions and just be a good worker to get by the job.

Aggretsuko

I really enjoyed Aggretsuko. First of all, its artstyle is adorable and really different and new compared to many of the previous anime we’ve watched. It is reminiscent of children’s cartoons, with its bright color blocking, overexaggerated inhumane features, and dramatic frictions. I think it really serves as one of the factors suggesting the influence western media has had on eastern media. The other factor I discerned was its theme regarding work culture. 

In Aggretsuko, our protagonist works an average office job and performs as the stereotypical woman working in an office job: taking on tasks, no complaining, and a blander personality. These aspects are meant to just “get the job done” and appease her boss. In (at least our perception) of eastern cultures, work becomes a sole priority and stands as the focal point in one’s life. However, in western cultures, people have shifted towards prioritizing personal goals, happiness, and utilizing work as a mode of pursuing self-fulfillment or as a mode of making ends meet. In Aggretsuko, we watch as she unfolds her personality as she is outside of her work place and it eventually leads to her development of making decisions for herself rather than simply pleasing her workplace norms.

The idea of norms is a large factor of our other assigned text. Butler’s paper discusses the appearance of personality and how repeated actions describe norms, but also act as the identity of a person—specifically in reference to performative actions and dialogue describing a gender identity. Aggretsuko mirrors gender with general workplace identity. Our protagonist performs stereotypical roles and others perceive her identity as such, later reinforcing their idea of her by how they treat her and her responses crafted to appease them. By acting on her own, she demonstrates a fluidity to identity and can establish her own personality

[humzariaz]

Aggretsuko

Retsuko is the textbook example of how women are expected to navigate professional spaces. She’s polite, hardworking, and never pushes back, which makes her an easy target for her boss. He piles extra work on her, dismisses her efforts, and openly belittles her. Meanwhile, she has to stay composed because if she actually voiced her frustrations, she’d be seen as “unprofessional.”

Retsuko’s experience reflects a frustrating double standard that women are expected to be agreeable and put in extra effort without recognition, while men can get away with doing the bare minimum. Ton is loud, lazy, and rude, yet he’s still in charge. Retsuko, on the other hand, works through the nonsense, knowing that stepping out of line would only make things worse.

Then there’s Anai in season two, who highlights another side of workplace gender dynamics. He’s insecure and constantly overreacts to feedback, but instead of being told to toughen up, he gets sympathy. His emotional crash-outs are taken seriously, while Retsuko has to suppress her feelings just to be treated as competent. It’s a clear contrast that men are often given more space to express frustration, while women have to be careful not to be labeled as overly emotional.

The anime does a great job of calling out these workplace inequalities in a way that’s funny, but also unfortunately relatable. Whether it’s the pressure to stay quiet, the expectation to take on extra work, or the way men and women are judged differently for showing emotion, the show captures the unspoken rules of office culture in a way.

[humzariaz]

Her story of developing courage and power over time is similar to many shonen jump like Naruto. She was never meant to be a hero but it’s understanding that she has gained this great power and with it comes great responsibility.

Sailor Moon (Ep. 1, 2, 4, 8)

Sailor Moon starts off with Usagi being a complete mess. She oversleeps, sucks at school, cries over everything, and has zero confidence. But that’s what makes her so relatable. In episode 1, her transformation isn’t some empowering “I was always meant to be a hero” moment—it’s her getting thrown into something she’s not ready for. She fights because she has to, not because she’s strong or brave, and that’s what makes her powerful.

Episode 2 introduces Ami, and the whole point of her character is that she’s been isolated for being too smart. The way Usagi brings her in isn’t through competition but by just... being nice. The show constantly reinforces that “girl power” isn’t about being the strongest or the smartest—it’s about supporting each other. Newsom’s whole thing about “girl power” challenging traditional power structures fits here, because Sailor Moon is never about one girl being better than another. It’s about collective strength over individualism.

Episode 4 brings in Rei, and this is where the show really plays with different types of femininity. Rei is confident, intense, and doesn’t vibe with Usagi at first, but instead of being framed as a rival, she just becomes part of the group. They don’t have to be the same kind of person to be allies, which ties into how “girl power” shouldn’t be about fitting a mold but making space for different kinds of girls.

Episode 8 is when Usagi actually starts stepping up. She’s still scared, still not the best fighter, but she starts taking responsibility. Newsom’s Girl Power critiques how commercial feminism makes it all about individual success, but Sailor Moon has always been about the opposite. Usagi isn’t powerful because she’s the best—she’s powerful because she believes in her friends, and that belief is what makes them all stronger.

[humzariaz]

Sailor Moon

At first, Sailor. On felt like it leaned into every stereotype of a "girly" anime with boy crazy protagonists, excessive focus on beauty, and an almost childish tone. Watching it from a fourth-wave feminist perspective, where media is often criticized for reinforcing unrealistic standards, I found myself side-eyeing a lot of the messages. But as I kept watching, I realized that it wasn’t failing at feminism as it was a product of third-wave feminism, which celebrated femininity, glamour, and individualism.

Usagi isn’t the typical “strong female lead” modern audiences look for. She’s clumsy, emotional, and cries over small things. Initially, this made her feel like an exaggerated stereotype, but then it hit me, she’s supposed to be like this. Third-wave feminism embraced the idea that girls didn’t have to act masculine to be powerful. Usagi saves the day as herself, not by changing who she is.

Episode 4 however, was hard to justify. Usagi and her friends obsess over weight loss, and the underlying message is that only skinny girls are beautiful. Worse, there’s a comment that girls should fall in love so they’ll be motivated to stay thin. This is where the series’ feminism stumbles, I get that third-wave feminism embraced beauty culture, but this takes it too far and almost treat’s that mindset as a joke.

By episode 8, the show really leans into its core message: being yourself is powerful. Usagi isn’t perfect, but she’s kind, brave, and never stops believing in herself.

The anime may not fit modern feminist ideals, but it was groundbreaking for its time showing that heroes don’t have to fit a single mold.

[humzariaz]

Despite the slow start, I personally liked the introduction of new characters. I wasn’t a big fan of the ones from season 1, so Ogiue’s little facade was interesting to unmask.

Genshiken pt 2

Finishing this anime was really hard as I felt the pacing was pretty slow. The second half of this show takes a small turn in contrast to the first. It still shows otaku culture but also with the introduction of a new character. The characters Ogiue and Madarame, highlight different aspects of these struggles of how fans navigate their identity, social expectations, and self-expression. , reflecting themes explored in Tamaki Saitō’s Beautiful Fighting Girl. We see how Ogiue has an internalized shame in that she is a fujoshi. We see that she claims to hate female otaku, but later on in that episode, we see that she actually likes Yaoi and is seen at different events. In addition to this she also secretly created her own BL manga. Furthermore, in episode 5 of season 2, we see how she struggles to accept her identity. This can reflect Saito’s argument that otaku media provides a space for fans to explore their desires. Personal and Societal tension can be negotiated through these fictional narratives and for Ogiue, her manga becomes a means of this self-expression. This peaks in Episode 11 when she shows Sasahara what she's been working on. I feel like this signifies her growing confidence in who she is as it relates to her accepting her identity. Madarame, on the other hand, would be the stereotypical "hardcore otaku" who immerses himself in anime but struggles with real-life relationships and social interactions. His unspoken feelings for Saki in Episode 11 highlight the disconnect between fantasy and reality. This struggle really goes to show how otakus can struggle with real-world relationships and how to properly cultivate them outside of their world. Kujibiki Unbalance talk about these themes by playing off common tropes, like the beautiful fighting girl and Saito also says that these characters work as almost objects of desire while maintaining strong identities. Genshiken showcases this by portraying otaku not just as consumers but as creators, engaging critically with media and creating their own culture and media.

[humzariaz]

Genshiken part II

Ogiue swears she hates girly little stories about Boy Love, but is such a poser. We see her wrestle with her so-called "hatred" of otaku culture, especially BL (Boys’ Love), even though she’s clearly into it.

From the moment she joins the club, Ogiue makes it clear that she doesn’t like otaku, and she definitely doesn’t like BL. But let’s be real, no one who hates BL can draw it that well. Episode 5 starts hinting at a past that made her ashamed of her interests. It’s not that she dislikes BL itself, but rather the stigma and judgment that come with it.

By Episodes 10 and 11, the truth starts slipping out. Her talent for drawing BL is undeniable, and the club members, especially Sasahara, start noticing. The more she tries to distance herself, the more obvious it becomes that she’s a BL fan in deep, just scared to admit it. When her work gets exposed, she’s forced to confront her feelings. But instead of rejection, she’s met with support.

Ogiue’s journey makes sense. A lot of fans, boys and girls, go through that phase of hiding their interests out of fear of being judged. The anime handles this so well, showing that fandom shame is real, but acceptance, both from others and from yourself, is what really matters. By the end of the arc, Ogiue is still awkward, still figuring things out, but she’s finally starting to own what she loves. And honestly? That’s one of the best things about this anime and the club.

[humzariaz]

I could relate with Sasa when she was hesitant to buy an original piece because you debate fully embracing a new culture or interest right off the bat.

Genshiken (Episodes 1-3, 9)

After reading these pieces about otaku culture, it was fascinating to see their points represented in Genshiken. Many of the members of Genshiken appear to have very little interested in the "grand narrative" and instead place much value on the fictional worlds that they consume. What I thought to be a great example of this was Kousaka's interactions with Kasukabe throughout the show. Although she is his girlfriend, he instead focuses on anime and video games. In the first few episodes, Kousaka is even aloof to Kasukabe's advances and displays ignorance to social norms, such as when he never makes any move to clean his room or hide his eroge when she or others visit, and goes to Akihabara to buy goods or chooses to spend time with the boys at times where Kasukabe attempts to spend more intimate time with him. This blatant rejection of social norms is indicative of his disinterest in the grand narrative.

Another moment that I found interesting was when Sasahara went out to buy doujinshi with the Genshiken club for the first time. In this scene, Sasahara has difficulty deciding whether to buy an official work with few pages, or a doujinshi with many pages. In the end, Sasahara ends up purchasing both of them, which also directly connects to the concept of simulacra in postmodernism, and how there is no distinction between the original work and the derivative. There are also many signs of the moe-elements that were mentioned in the previous reading, such as the distinguishing helmet that the main girl in Kujibiki Unbalance wears, in addition to many of the other prominent characteristics of the rest of the cast of this satirical work.

Finally, the members of Genshiken were also depicted to collect figures, manga, and doujinshi throughout the series, with the club room and the bedrooms of the club members used as extreme forms of representation. The forms of fan productivity mentioned in the reading were also depicted in the show, as seen in Oono's cosplay and the handmade works that the Genshiken members either make themselves, purchase at conventions, or receive from online friend groups.

[humzariaz]

Genshiken part I

Most anime either glorify or mock otaku culture, but Genshiken doesn’t turn anime fandom into some ridiculous stereotype or make it look overly glamorous. Instead, it shows the awkward, nerdy, and sometimes uncertain journey of being an otaku, especially when it comes to figuring out your own identity.

Sasahara Kanji is your classic newbie otaku who is curious but too embarrassed to fully admit it. He checks out Genshiken, but he hesitates. That fear of being judged which lot of fans go through that phase of wondering.

Meeting the club members throws Sasahara even further into self-doubt. Madarame is fully confident in his identity as an otaku, proudly debating anime. Meanwhile, Tanaka is into model kits and cosplay, showing how fandom takes different forms. Sasahara feels out of place, but the truth is, otaku culture isn’t one-size-fits-all and everyone connects in their own way.

Episode 3 digs deeper into that identity crisis. Sasahara struggles to admit he’s an otaku, like it’s some big, shameful label. But by the end, he starts realizing that it’s okay to enjoy what he enjoys.

Comic Fest is total chaos just like real-life conventions. Long lines, cosplay, merch everywhere. But beyond the hype, it’s a place where otaku can truly be themselves, which ties back to Sasahara’s journey.

[humzariaz]

I like your comparison of no face from Spirited Away to Azumas idea of people becoming obsessed with materials in otaku culture that appeal to us.

Azuma's Database Animals

I felt like this book had a lot to say about a conversation that tends to be overlooked. Although this book has a focus on anime/manga/otaku culture, the main commentary of it is the idea of postmodernism’s priority of quantity over quality. When we think about our current age, everything is readily available and ever-changing. Despite the excitement that comes with this, there is a cost- quality. Azuma uses this narrative to dive deeper into our current consumption habits. 

One thing Azuma emphasized in his book was the concept of database consumption versus narrative consumption. With this idea, he comments on how we have stopped appreciating deeply intense storylines (narrative consumption), and have started to solely appreciate the individual elements that appeal to us (database consumption). Furthermore, the growth of this consumption has caused an entire culture to emerge: otaku culture. According to the text, “the word ‘otaku’ (meaning ‘your home’ or ‘your family’) points to the assertion that one is identified, not by personal relations but by a relationship to the home unit and one’s own territory.” From the development of database consumption and the focus on individual details, communities have started searching for their “families” that resonate with these varying details. Specifically, Azuma comments on the idea of moe-elements and how people have begun to resonate with these specific character traits. 

Another thing I wanted to comment on was Azuma’s apparent critique of otaku culture. From the title alone, we see that Azuma is comparing database consumption to the likes of something animal. Otaku/database culture, and more specifically those involved in it, are those who consume instinctually and without cease. This description reminds me of our discussion of No-Face from Spirited Away and how he would just continue to eat without thought. As a whole, society has become obsessed with materials. However, I do agree with Azuma in that the otaku culture seems to be leading the margin. Although I do not necessarily see it as a bad thing, I think Otaku culture speaks a lot into where certain people’s priorities are and how they identify themselves with things that are specifically fictional. 

[humzariaz]

Database Animals

Hiroki Azuma dives into the way modern Japanese youth interact with fictional worlds and how these worlds shape their identities. One of his key ideas is the concept of "database animals," which describes how people today consume and categorize vast amounts of information from media: like anime, video games, and manga—almost like they're collecting data. This idea is key to understanding why more and more young people seem to prefer fictional worlds over real-life experiences.

Azuma argues that, for many, fictional universes offer something that reality can’t: control, simplicity, and a sense of belonging. In a way, the line between fiction and reality has blurred, especially for those who find more meaning in escapism than the messy hardships of the real world. Instead of focusing on the struggles and unpredictability of real life, they put themselves in stories that let them make their own experiences, picking and choosing what sits with them most.

Fictional worlds offer a space where everything makes sense, and characters can represent what we aspire to be or feel. They provide comfort and clarity that the real world sometimes can't. Instead of facing the challenges and chaos that come with reality, fictional worlds allow people to find meaning and create a version of themselves that’s shaped by the visions of the fictional world.

This isn't necessarily a bad thing, though. Azuma’s point is that in a complicated world, these fictional spaces allow young people to make sense of themselves and their desires. By connecting with these worlds, they can better understand who they are and what they want, in ways that the real world often doesn’t offer.

[humzariaz]

Shoya growing up to change his outlook on the world is a representation of what society should do instead of expecting the disabled, or “outliers” that aren’t like the rest of society, to go through an arc of proving themselves worthy.

A silent Voice

A silent voice is definitely one of the saddest movies I watched so far, behind Barefoot Gen. It touches on a lot of sensitive topics, such like suicide,  depression,and low self-esteem.  cuz I watched this movie again, I really found it interesting how Shoya became the victim after he was the bully in the show. Every time I watch this movie I'm torn between how I feel when it comes to sympathizing for the main character and actually not feeling bad at all.  well he didn't in the beginning of the movie was Unforgivable and really shows the how children can be ruthless,  I found it interesting to see how he really believed the girl to be accepted by his peers and took on the role of the villain to entertain his peers all just to get accepted into make friends.  and I find it ironic more so, because that's how he ended up losing his friends.I feel like everyone in that little Frank group when they're in the 6th grade had like a different role to play or a presented a different emotion or a different theme. Feel like it's fake as everyone wasn't that so the fakest of them all had to be Mikki.  In the second half of the movie I feel like she was the only one who wouldn't actually admit to being a part of the problem when they're in the sixth grade and she turned the refuses to take accountability saying that she did nothing wrong even though she may not have added to it but being a bystander and condoning the others actions and not trying to help her was really what she did wrong.  and I feel like instead of embracing that and coming to terms of that she just runs from the fact that she did in fact do and that's why she's no better than to rest.  I also feel like as Shoya grows up he tries to reshape how he looks at the world after his attempted suicide,  but even then we see that there are still fall backs what parts are you stumbles back into the dark place where he was and continues to put x's on people's faces when things get hard.  this movie is a great representation of what the day-to-day life is for a lot of people who just don't come towards the term for the fact and the different characters represent a lot of different people and how those react to these situations.

[humzariaz]

Silent Voice

Shoya Ishida, a guy who bullied Shoko Nishimiya, a deaf girl, pretty badly when he was younger. He didn’t realize at the time just how much damage he was doing, but once he grew up, that guilt hit him hard. Shoya spent a lot of time feeling terrible for what he did, and he had no idea how to make it right.

What’s really powerful about Shoya’s story is that instead of just ignoring the past or letting the guilt eat him up forever, he decides to do something about it. When he reconnects with Shoko years later, he doesn’t just throw out an “I’m sorry” and hope that’s enough. He knows he has to show her that he’s actually changed. And that’s where learning sign language comes in.

Learning sign language is more than just a way to talk to Shoko; it’s Shoya’s way of stepping into her world and trying to understand her better. It’s like he’s saying, “I want to make up for everything I did, and I’m willing to put in the effort to show you that I care.” It’s not an easy thing to do, but it shows just how much he’s grown from the kid who was cruel to someone different from him.

In the end, the anime isn’t just about saying sorry—it’s about doing the work to make things right, no matter how tough that might be. It’s a reminder that redemption takes time, but it’s totally possible if you’re willing to own up to your mistakes and put in the effort to fix them.

[humzariaz]

I really enjoyed the small moments the movie offered. Moments like those made me feel more involved with the mother’s struggles.

Wolf Children

Wolf Children is one of those films that hits you right in the heart. It’s not just a fantasy story about kids who can turn into wolves—it’s a deeply emotional look at parenthood, identity, and growing up. The movie starts with Hana, a college student who falls in love with a man who turns out to be a wolf. Their love story is brief but beautiful, making it all the more heartbreaking when he dies, leaving Hana alone to raise their two children, Ame and Yuki. From the very start, the movie makes it clear that raising kids—especially ones who don’t fit into the world’s expectations—is anything but easy.

One of the most powerful aspects of the movie is how it portrays motherhood. Hana isn’t just dealing with the normal struggles of being a single mom; she’s raising kids who can literally turn into wolves. She has to hide their abilities from the world while also trying to let them have a normal childhood. The way she sacrifices so much for them, from moving to the countryside to learning how to farm just to survive, makes her one of the most admirable anime moms ever.

But what makes Wolf Children so special is how it tells a coming-of-age story from two completely different perspectives. Yuki, the more energetic and outgoing of the two, eventually embraces her human side, choosing to fit in with society. Ame, on the other hand, slowly drifts toward his wolf nature, feeling more at home in the wild than among people. Watching their paths diverge is both beautiful and heartbreaking because it shows that growing up isn’t about following one set path—it’s about finding where you truly belong.

The final scene, where Hana lets Ame go into the mountains, is one of the most emotional moments in the film. She chases after him, desperate to keep him close, but in the end, she realizes that she has to let him go. It’s such a perfect representation of parenthood—raising children isn’t about shaping them into what you want them to be, it’s about preparing them for the lives they choose.

The animation and music add so much to the emotional weight of the film. The soft colors, the quiet countryside setting, and the way time passes so naturally all make the story feel incredibly real. It’s a movie that doesn’t rely on big action or dramatic twists. Instead, it finds beauty in small, everyday moments—kids running through fields, a mother tending to her garden, siblings laughing together. That’s what makes Wolf Children so powerful. It’s not just a story about wolf kids—it’s a story about love, sacrifice, and the bittersweet nature of growing up.