The time for me to bundle up against the cold and take on another highly treasured anime property is here! That’s right, we’re back at it again this year, but the flavor is a bit different for 2025. As the early part of any year tends to put me in the mood to bite down on some sci-fi anime, I can usually call this the “Sci-Fi V-Day Special.” However, after gazing at my options of interest, it seemed that I wouldn’t be able to make room for anything huge this year. In the interest of time, I was forced make a swift pivot, yet trust me when I say that I’m still excited for what 2025’s special holds.
BUT, before I make the announcement, let’s look back on the history of this homegrown tradition. Here’s a refresher for those in need!
2013 ~ Steins;Gate
2014 ~ Kokoro Connect (I think . . . )
2015 ~ Neon Genesis Evangelion
2016 ~ The Rose of Versailles (It’s not always a sci-fi watch, I know!)
2017 ~ Ghost in the Shell
2018 ~ Haikyuu!! (Again, not sci-fi!)
2019 ~ RahXephon
2020 ~ Gunbuster (PANDEMIC)
2021 ~ Gunbuster
2022 ~ *SKIPPED* (I did watch Heroic Age, though.)
2023 ~ Evangelion: 3.33 You Can (Not) Redo (REWATCH)
2024 ~ Trigun
This annual advent always emphasizes classic anime, those which have proven the test of time and are still beloved across many circles. With full knowledge of the time restraints AND the desire to try a slice of the easy life (or cake, whichever is served first), I’m happy to announce that this year’s V-Day Special will be . . .
2025 ~ K-On!
After the Trigun watch poster turned out so nicely, I put similar effort into designing the watch order “roadmap.” Hope y’all like it!
While K-On! hasn’t been one of those titles lingering in my physical collection amassing a thick layer of dust on its case for too long, it’s one every anime fan from the dreamy 2010s era remembers fondly. I’ve admired these silly girls and their light music club from afar for YEARS, and it’s time I sat down and truly gotten to know them.
Over the next few days, I’ll be hibernating before the TV and munching on the sweet treats. In fact, what makes this marathon so much swifter is that I purposefully chose a title I’d already started to serve as the V-Day Special. Sooo, my actual “starting point” for the holiday will be in the middle-ish of the second season. Call me a cheater, that’s fine! I’d like to think of it as being proactive!
As I spend this time recollecting myself and appreciating all the things I’ve accomplished within the past few weeks, I hope you, too, will be spending this season of love doing that which makes you happy. Whether that means enjoying time with family, friends, or a loved one, what matters most is that you find and embrace that warm, tingly feeling that makes our hearts flutter. Of course, eating something sweet is a must as well!
When next we meet, I hope I’ll be able to muster the energy to organize my thoughts on the K-On! franchise, be it in the form of a review or a more casual reflection post. Either way, it’ll be a retrospective glance at a 15-year-old anime gem. Look forward to it with passion!
“. . . I think trees represent something I inherited from far, far in the past. There is something psychological here, for I obviously feel that a landscape with trees is preferable to scenes without them . . . There is also a big difference between realizing and not realizing that the trees alive today have been living on this earth far longer than we humans can even imagine.”
(Hayao Miyazaki, Starting Point: 1979–1996, p. 163)
I’ve Been Lost in the Woods
My 2023 summer screening experience of Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind (1984) was perhaps one of the most probing watches of a Studio Ghibli film ever. This was not my first go-round with Nausicaä (my family has owned a DVD copy of it since my childhood), but I’m willing to call it the viewing where I actually understood more of what was happening than not.
Nausicaä is neither a convoluted film nor a particularly difficult one to understand. Anyone who watches it generally takes note of themes like compassion for the other, exploitation of natural resources, and struggles for ecological balance to name a few. And many, many viewers become sucked in by the gravity of Nausicaä’s glowing forestscape, which is exactly where I’ve been wandering since that 2023 theatrical showing. At some point, I felt compelled to order a dinged up yet discounted copy of the Nausicaä manga courtesy of VIZ and RightStuf (R.I.P.), yet I shelved it upon arrival for future me to explore.
Flash forward to the following summer and I find myself this time at a showing of Princess Mononoke (1997). Now, GKIDS has been graciously offering “Ghibli Fest” screenings for several years. What brought me to see this Miyazaki masterpiece specifically one year after the previous? I’m blaming it on the trees, for when I walked out of the theater and warmly beheld the setting summer sun, I felt a burning resolve to learn more about forests in Japan. As soon as I returned home, I ordered books, cleared off my table, and let the stacks grow until they toppled over.
It’s now January 2025, and after procrastinating on writing something blog-worthy to encapsulate “where” I’ve been the past year and a half, I’ve decided that I’m ready to turn the leaf and confront the forest head-on. Here is how I learned more about the history and geography of Japanese forests through Hayao Miyazaki and Studio Ghibli.
Why a “Guide” Instead of an Analysis?
In an age where we have access to anything we could ever want to know, right at our fingertips, we have become consumers who seek only the answers to surface-level questions and some of life’s greatest dilemmas alike, and we have neglected the vital process of learning through experience and reading. By my handpicking these films, essays, and excerpts and organizing them in a methodical and practical way for you yourself to learn what these works are doing and how they are doing it, you will walk away with an immensely richer and profoundly deeper understanding of forests in Ghibli works—that, I promise you. Hard work offers fulfillment. Miyazaki himself says it best: “To want to work is to want to live” (Turning Point: 1997–2008, p. 240). If you truly want to get in the weeds of this topic like I did, then it’s time to roll up your sleeves.
The subject of this post is not what I learned, but how I learned. There are countless reviews, both formal analyses and informal reflections, written posts and published videos, that cover what we can learn from Ghibli works. I might contribute to that discussion, but that’s for a different post. My intent here is to show you how I stumbled into this topic, hence this diary of an opener. I want to document how I became lost in the forest’s vastness and offer you a guide to staying above the treetops (or more of a thread to trace) should you find yourself also wanting an invitation to this little party in the woods. (No weird stuff, unless you count the clattering kodama.) Just know, though, that life starts on the forest floor—down in the weeds, the burrows, and the soil itself. It’s a little more fun there, anyhow.
If you know of other supplemental materials to this broad topic of “Ghibli forests,” leave a comment below. If it’s knowledge you’re willing to share, I welcome your recommendations.
So, Where to Start?
I’m no forest ranger (nor much of an outdoors person, really), but I do know that most if not all forests have multiple entrances. Naturally, so do we, too, have many options for embarking on our journey. Of course, whenever “starting” is concerned, I will never fault one for defaulting to theatrical release order. Much insight can be gained by tracking how a writer or director progresses through their career. However, given the universality of Ghibli these days, chances are high that you’ve seen one of their films already; you already have memories and visitations with one or more of these titles, and a truly “ blind chronological viewing” may seem less attainable.
To me, it’s more fruitful to consider the scope of each major Studio Ghibli film that centers “the forest” as its setting. Three major films come to mind: Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind (1984), My Neighbor Totoro (1988), and Princess Mononoke (1997). While most materials I fold under each major film are directly related to said film, some works are ancillary. So, I want you to consider this method of organization as well:
To humanity, from the past
To humanity, from the future
To humanity, living in the present
As I’ve read more essays and speeches by Miyazaki, I’ve come to see him as a man of many contradictions. Publicly, we perceive him as a genius who gripes endlessly about how miserable life in present-day society is—whether in the 80s, 2000s, or now—which consistently leads to further disgruntlement with matters concerning our bleakening future. At the same time, he remains optimistic about children, their innocence, and their ability to make positive impacts. (I wonder how much this has changed since his interviews in the early 2000s . . .) In private, Miyazaki has devoted much time to unraveling the mysteries of Japan’s ancient past. And, while a childlike fascination pokes through his musings on what life must’ve been like during the Jōmon, Heian, or Muromachi periods, he openly confesses that life “back then” also had its abundant misfortunes. Wherever there are people, there are problems, it seems.
What I’m trying to get at is that Miyazaki’s intentions with communicating timely issues are also informed by the genre types his works resemble: historical fantasy (period drama, specifically jidaigeki style), post-apocalyptic fantasy, and rural fantasy. This is where I derive the aforementioned past-future-present structure from.
Thus, let me then offer you the roots, bark, and branches for this method of attack, starting with what can only be described as one of anime’s most compelling and cinematic experiences to date. That’s right. We first head off to industrial Irontown where the fierce Lady Eboshi wages a one-sided war with the creatures of the forest—and the forest itself.
Forest of Historical Fantasy
“There is a religious feeling that remains to this day in many Japanese. It is a belief that there is a very pure place deep within our country where people are not to enter. In that place clear water flows and nourishes the deep forests . . . The forest that is the setting for Princess Mononoke is not drawn from an actual forest. Rather, it is a depiction of the forest that has existed within the hearts of Japanese from ancient times.”
(Hayao Miyazaki, Turning Point: 1997–2008, p. 88)
WATCH: Princess Mononoke (1997)
I fancy beginning with a watch of Princess Mononoke because it packs a whole lot into its 133 minutes while feeling complete on its own. You are introduced to conflicts that form the epicenter of the whole reason why we feel this disconnect with nature to begin with: nature vs. industry, humanity vs. spirit, tradition vs. change. With its sweeping visuals and epic scale, the film invites the viewer to explore what it means not only for one person “to live” but for tribes of people, races of creatures, and forces of nature to all “live” within the same world, even if they exist so in cyclical conflict.
SUPPLEMENT: The Art of Princess Mononoke (VIZ Media)*
After enjoying such an incredible film, re-experience the magic of the forest with its art book! Notice the contrast in surroundings between Emishi Village and the Tatara Ironworking Clan. Most of those lush forest backgrounds can be found in the “Forest of the Deer God” section (pp. 83-115). VIZ has released English editions of these art books for each Ghibli film by Miyazaki, so check out the art books for the other films mentioned in this guide too.
*At some point before or after the film, be sure to read the director’s statement “The Battle Between Humans and Ferocious Gods” dated April 19, 1995. You can find it online or printed in various locations: The Art of Princess Mononoke (p. 12), Starting Point: 1979–1996 (p. 272; slight differences due to being a planning memo), Turning Point: 1997–2008 (p. 15), and the GKIDS Blu-ray release insert (p. 5). I always enjoy reading statements like these prior to watching a film, but I can respect wanting a 100% blind experience for first-time viewers.
READ: Starting Point: 1979–1996 (VIZ Media)
The two essay and interview collections by Hayao Miyazaki are DENSE but fascinating to read, whether by section as needed or straight through like I did. I recommend the entire publication, but relevant passages and starting pages are as follows:
Princess Mononoke Planning Memo (p. 272)
About Period Dramas (p. 132)
The Power of the Single Shot (p. 158)
READ: Turning Point: 1997–2008 (VIZ Media)
Unlike Starting Point, which describes many of the early ventures leading up to some of Miyazaki’s biggest works of the 2000s era, Turning Point goes all-in on five distinct and classic titles. Princess Mononoke starts the ball of this 450-page book rolling with nearly 200 pages dedicated to it and other social happenings as the film was being made. Really, it’s all insightful knowledge, but the following excerpts especially set a solid groundwork for the next leg of our forest journey.
The Battle Between Humans and Ferocious Gods—The Goal of This Film (p. 15)
The People Who Were Lost (p. 20; poem)
Kodama Tree Spirits (p. 24; poem)
The Forest of the Deer God (Forest Spirit) (p. 26; poem)
The Elemental Power of the Forest Also Lives Within the Hearts of Human Beings (p. 27)
Those Who Live in the Natural World All Have the Same Values (p. 38)
You Cannot Depict the Wild Without Showing Its Brutality and Cruelty: A Dialogue with Tadao Satō (p. 42; comments on the tagline “Live” on p. 54)
Princess Mononoke and the Attraction of Medieval Times: A Dialogue with Yoshihiko Amino (p. 60)
Forty-four Questions on Princess Mononoke for Director Hayao Miyazaki from International Journalists at the Berlin International Film Festival (p. 79; comments on how “The kodama came from the eeriness and mysteriousness of the forest” on p. 82; comments on the “depiction of the forest that has existed within the hearts of Japanese from ancient times” on p. 88; comments alluding to biocentrism vs. anthropocentrism debate on p. 90)
Animation and Animism: Thoughts on the Living “Forest” (p. 94)
We Should Each Start Doing What We Can (p. 276)
WATCH: The Man Who Planted Trees (1987)
This 30-minute animated short film directed by Frédéric Back (based on Jean Giono’s 1953 short story) is a source of personal inspiration for countless animators, Hayao Miyazaki and Isao Takahata included. At its core is the simple ethos of “paying kindness forward by hard, consistent work,” yet the film’s animation of plants is constantly vibrant and full of motion. Back was a master of the craft, no doubt, and while viewing it online in 480p is far from ideal, you can watch his work HERE on YouTube for free.
After watching this, return to Starting Point: 1979–1996 and read “Having Seen The Man Who Planted Trees”(p. 143) for brief comments by Miyazaki himself. Ghibli director Isao Takahata’s love for the film is mentioned in other documentaries as well, namely Journey of the Heart: Conversations With The Man Who Planted Trees. Traveler: Isao Takahata (1998).
And now, to get to the heart of these matters concerning the forest, we actually head out to a valley. A valley of the wind.
Forest of Post-Apocalyptic Fantasy
“I’m sometimes asked what it is about trees that I find so attractive. But it seems to me that even the question represents the height of irreverence. After all, our lives depend on trees, and we exist at their mercy. For example, I believe that we will one day pay a terrible price if people arrogantly and indiscriminately destroy forests, simply because they want ‘a more profitable use of the land.’ In fact, we’re already paying the price.”
(Hayao Miyazaki, Turning Point: 1997–2008, p. 276)
WATCH: Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind (1984)*
For people unacquainted with Nausicaä in any form, I will almost always fight for a film watch prior to reading the manga. Hear me out. The film is a good one. It has spellbound literally generations of aspiring artists, animators, and anime fans, and you will never regret being able to say “The manga was better” over “The movie was terrible.” Because it’s not, and now you know.
Personal opinions aside, a watch of the film before a read of the manga might also be wise since the manga didn’t conclude until 1994 with over 12 years in the making. Miyazaki’s editor paused the manga’s serialization several times to allow the writer/director/artist to clear his head by working on films. (Or maybe it was the other way around; Starting Point provides the full picture.) Although the final theatrical product reflects characters, ideas, and setting details from only the first part of the manga, it remains historical in its effect of inspiring all who witness the flurry of forest life bursting forth from the Sea of Corruption.
*Don’t forget to read the statements from Toshio Suzuki (2010), Hayao Miyazaki (1983), and Isao Takahata (1983) before OR after watching the film. The only format I presently own these in is the GKIDS Blu-ray release insert, though I’m sure they can be found online or in print elsewhere.
READ: Starting Point: 1979–1996 (VIZ Media)
We’re back to reinforce our film watching with essays, interviews, and other tangents from the director himself. Because this is the only Miyazaki film with a manga adaptation penned by the director, the dual perspective is fascinating to read up on from a creation standpoint. Read any of this before, while, or after reading the manga. Then, focus on the forests, which I’ve done for you by selecting these particular passages:
On the Banks of the Sea of Decay (p. 165)
About Ryōtarō Shiba-san (p. 211)
On Nausicaä (p. 283)
On Completing Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind (p. 390; about the manga)
Earth’s Environment as Metaphor (p. 414)
READ: Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind (VIZ Media)
Of course, if you start with the film, you’re more likely to appreciate what the animated story has going for it. If you’re in the manga-first camp (a rare breed), then you probably don’t bat an eye at the film, and that’s ok. The Nausicaä manga is one of the most significant achievements in comics, but I probably didn’t need to tell you that. As someone who only finished reading it for the first time at the end of 2024, I was stunned by the piece. Through the Daikosho, we see how reclamation of forest land can be both a natural process and one that’s artificially engineered. And with the theatrical tagline of Princess Mononoke sharing the same word as the final line of the Nausicaä manga—that we must “live”—I surrender to the hope that no matter how much of the forest we take, the forest will find a way to live on—to outgrow us, even.
Forests of Rural and Urban Fantasy
“We Japanese have changed our environment so much that we must either change ourselves or, clinging to our memories of the past, try to regenerate the trees that once functioned as our mother. That doesn’t mean, of course, that we should think of protecting the environment to the exclusion of all else, because we do ride in automobiles. We must live with contradictions . . . [A]s with films about trees, I hope I can maintain the perspective that the midges in the ditch near my house are just as important as the prized sweetfish in the clean waters of the Shimanto River.”
(Hayao Miyazaki, Starting Point: 1979–1996, p. 163-64)
WATCH: My Neighbor Totoro (1988)*
By this point, we’ve relived the violent past and taken a glimpse into the war-torn future. What is left of the forest in the present? Well, one could definitely say it’s facing a “quickening end” of sorts. As we continue to permit rapid urbanization, expanding cityscapes, and reckless waste, we trade off forest life for our own proliferation. After Nausicaälearns the truth of the Daikosho, who’s to say what the real virus is: a biological toxin born of natural processes and synthetic manipulation, or unchecked human greed. Both stink, that’s for sure. At least we still have Totoro, right?
Although My Neighbor Totoro was released almost a decade before Princess Mononoke, I find its optimistic spirit a far more pleasant cushion for facing the end times. Part of this motivation circles back to Miyazaki’s own fondness for the children growing up in society. Even when we grumble at a weed poking through the pavement, children can still find beauty in the bramble. The forest trees loom large over Mei and Satsuki’s heads, and their joyous wonder is both amusing and contagious. In a way, the forest and its Totoro give the girls energy and awe out in Japan’s quiet countryside.
*Don’t forget to read the statements from Toshio Suzuki (2012) and Hayao Miyazaki (1986) before OR after watching the film. The only format I presently own these in is the GKIDS Blu-ray release insert, though the director’s statement can also be found in Starting Point: 1979–1996 (p. 255; project plan with more details) and The Art of My Neighbor Totoro (VIZ Media).
READ: Starting Point: 1979–1996 (VIZ Media)
You saw this coming. Flip open your mangled, marked-up, sticky-noted copy of Starting Point and get to readin’! Oh, does only mine look like that? Huh.
Project Plan for My Neighbor Totoro (p. 255)
The Type of Film I’d Like to Create (p. 148)
Things That Live in a Tree (p. 162)
Totoro Was Not Made as a Nostalgia Piece (p. 350; there are also comments on Kazuo Oga’s artwork)
WATCH: Pom Poko (1994)*
Remember when I said that several Ghibli works approach themes of nature and environmentalism? Pom Poko (1994) is Isao Takahata’s highly beloved crack at the topic, and he does more than snap a few branches. Takahata’s tale of tanuki going “over the hedge” is a landmark in showcasing the modern plight of Japanese forest conservationists. Through depictions across changing seasons in Japan, the film paints over pastoral forest life as urbanity creeps over the canopies one concrete apartment complex at a time. “The forest is magical” is oft cited by Ghibli fans. Between whimsical Totoro, whispering kodama, and wild tanuki, perhaps the forest’s denizens possess equal ability to charm us.
*Don’t forget to read the statements from Toshio Suzuki (2013) and Isao Takahata (1994) before OR after watching the film. The only format I presently own these in is the GKIDS Blu-ray release insert, though I’m sure they can be found online or in print elsewhere.
SUPPLEMENT: Kazuo Oga Art Collection I & II (Tokuma Shoten)
We’ve spent so much time admiring the forest through text and animation, but we’ve labored little in studying the foliage up close. Kazuo Oga is not only a famed background artist but also a brilliant art director. His art directorship notably includes My Neighbor Totoro, Only Yesterday, Pom Poko, Princess Mononoke, and The Tale of Princess Kaguya—all Ghibli works where nature plays a star role. Oga’s background art spreads across too many masterful canvases to name here: Panda! Go, Panda!, Kiki’s Delivery Service, Porco Rosso, Whisper of the Heart, Spirited Away—You get the picture. He’s one of a powerhouse team that has fueled the “Studio Ghibli aesthetic” for decades. And for Princess Mononoke, he traveled far out to the Shirakami-Sanchi mountains to draw inspiration for the Emishi village.
Kazuo Oga’s art collections aren’t available under a U.S. license, but if you can get your hands on at least one of them, you’ll have a friend for life. Let’s spend some time soaking in his legendary forestscapes. If you’re not sure what to “look” for, consider starting with this note, a reflection from Kazuo Oga himself when Miyazaki first critiqued his forest artwork (p. 53):
“I gradually came to understand that I would not be able to achieve the picture that Miyazaki was looking for unless I paid more attention to the relationship between light and subdued colors. Until then, I had drawn trees rather symbolically . . . But I began to feel that I needed to carefully incorporate the many other trees and plants that we don’t usually notice, and the colors of the walls and pillars inside a room . . . The color of the pillars also changes depending on how the light hits them . . .”
Isao Takahata on Oga’s art direction (p. 88):
“Each plant and object is modest, neither standing out nor blending in, but each one exists properly, alive and well. And how charming it is to see them all blend together in a modest way.”
(Quotes are rough translations from Art Collection I via Google Lens.)
Other Ghibli Works to Support Your Forest Expedition
“Even though we [Japanese] have become a modern people, we still feel that there is a place where, if we go deep into the mountains, we can find a forest full of beautiful greenery and pure running water that is like a dreamscape . . . Deep in the forest there is something sacred that exists without a perceptible function. That is the central core, the navel, of the world, and we want to return in time to that pure place.”
(Hayao Miyazaki, Turning Point: 1997–2008, p. 36)
WATCH: Castle in the Sky (1986)
The woes of unchecked technological achievement displacing natural biomes forms a fictional historical backdrop in Laputa. Forests aren’t the center attraction per se, but once you consider the resource tradeoffs an ancient civilization made to create high-flying machines and castles . . . Plus, the overgrowth on Laputa is positively wild, almost as if the trees are reclaiming the castle itself.
WATCH: Kiki’s Delivery Service (1989)
Have you ever felt the urge to escape into the woods, to lose yourself in a place of quiet and sort out all of life’s troubles? Kiki’s retreat to Ursula’s cabin is perhaps one of the most convincing scenes of nature (particularly the forest) offering sanctuary for someone who’s lost their motivation AND rediscovered their creativity—their drive, their spirit—through nature. And I’d fight to keep the film on this “forest guide” if only for an illustrative moment like this.
WATCH: Only Yesterday (1991)
Taeko takes Kiki’s night journey to another level when she decides to revisit her relatives in the countryside. Nature and nostalgia weave together unexpectedly, and past memories bubble forth as Taeko reconnects with the mundane joys of outdoor living. There are many, many flourishing fields and flowers (in no small part thanks to Kazuo Oga), but it’s those majestic mountain forests that give Only Yesterday its sense that love can be expansive, at times arresting, yet always on the horizon.
READ: Shuna’s Journey (1983)
Miyazaki’s only standalone emonogatari (illustrated story) book is a moving work on its own, and it’s an even stronger thematic supplement to Nausicaä and Princess Mononoke especially where nature is visualized. The forest center as a mysterious paradise or “heart” which is home to the collective pulse of all ancient life is a frequently revisited motif in Miyazaki’s works. Given Shuna’s early 1983 publication date, it’s no wonder that the story sowed the creative seeds for many other recurring images, themes, and setting details.
SUPPLEMENT: Hayao Miyazaki (Academy Museum)
Such a dense archival book (both for information and artwork) is worth looking into for forest matters if only because the publication itself highlights Miyazaki’s forests in specific sections. These bits are of special note for us:
Creating Worlds (p. 121)
Totoro and the Mother Tree (p. 151)
The Forest, Kodama, and the Deer God (p. 157)
Nature and Nostalgia (p. 200)
Magical Forest (p. 250)
SUPPLEMENT: Studio Ghibli: Architecture in Animation (VIZ Media)
Wait, what does architecture have to do with nature? If you’ve watched any Ghibli film, then you’d know that the two come hand-in-hand. Architectural historian Terunobu Fujimori has put together a way to absorb and analyze Ghibli backgrounds that transcends the traditional art book experience of awe and admiration. His commentaries on the “Point of Contact Between Nature and Artifice” and “Forestry Society” (p. 25) are especially insightful.
Towards Greener Pastures: Ghibli-Adjacent Works
“The major characteristic of Studio Ghibli—not just myself—is the way we depict nature. We don’t subordinate the natural setting to the characters. Our way of thinking is that nature exists and human beings exist within it.”
(Hayao Miyazaki, Turning Point: 1997–2008, p. 90)
READ: The Easy Life in Kamusari (Shion Miura)
This slow-going, slice-of-life novel follows Yuki Hirano, a fresh-out-of-high-school bum who is sent out to the remote mountain village of Kamusari to earn some income through a forestry training program. Although he’s distanced from technology, friends, and popular society itself, Yuki eventually takes on the natural and practical challenges the mountain poses and comes to appreciate the forest for the trees. Shion Miura (The Great Passage, Run with the Wind) pens a teenage boy’s point-of-view with all its growing pains, even referencing a certain Ghibli film to describe the reverential movement of snow-like spores floating above the forest range.
READ: Sweet Bean Paste (Durian Sukegawa)
An international bestseller, Sweet Bean Paste might not have anything to do with forests, but it does discuss the misery, stigma, and effects of a certain disease outbreak and Japan’s historical mistreatment of those affected. I offer it here because, while Miyazaki was working on Princess Mononoke, he would frequently visit the sanatorium grounds (which is next to its museum) and ponder deeply and sincerely about those who suffered. This became part of the inspiration for the infected Prince Ashitaka who henceforth embarks through dense forests to find himself a cure. Sukegawa’s book is also flat-out remarkable for its equally endearing, admirable characters.
READ: Once and Forever: The Tales of Kenji Miyazawa
I haven’t actually read this particular collection of Miyazawa’s classic, fablesque short story writing, but I do know two things: 1) the late philosopher Takeshi Umehara (in an interview with Hayao Miyazaki) cites Kenji Miyazawa as one of “two poets of the forest,” the other being Kumagusu Minakata (Turning Point: 1997–2008, pg. 103); and 2) the NYRB publication of Miyazawa’s collected tales features giant trees on the cover. As a follow-up to this forest journey, this book will be one of my next immediate reads.
WATCH: Mushi-Shi (2005)
There are probably a hundred excellent anime out there that make intellectual, philosophical, and spiritual commentary on the forest like Studio Ghibli works do, but few are more patient than Mushi-Shi. You follow Ginko, an investigator of sorts with the rare ability “to peer into the places where the mushi hide in plain sight,” the mushi being the unexplainable, unseen creatures of nature which have silently attached themselves to our lives. For Ginko, exploring dark forest depths is par for the course, and how he conducts himself in nature is a philosophy in itself.
For this recommendation, any Kawase Hasui art book would do, but I really like this one. A printmaker of the shin-hanga “new prints” movement, Hasui combines the ukiyo-e “floating world” style while incorporating Western atmospheric effects and natural lighting (two attributes which Kazuo Oga strove for in his backgrounds for Ghibli). Since Hasui specialized in landscapes, you will find lots of 20th century (or older) architecture and nature depictions across all seasons and weather types. Studying the shift from traditional two-dimensional ukiyo-e to Hasui’s blended Eastern-Western style and all the way up to Oga’s Western style with Eastern subjects is rewarding on its own. The forest has been a world of inspiration for artists of all forms—and of all generations.
SUPPLEMENT: Art Books by Nizo Yamamoto (Various)
I wanted to squeeze one final recommendation that’s not pictured anywhere in this post. Nizo Yamamoto was an art director and background artist like Kazuo Oga who produced nature art for several Studio Ghibli projects (including the background used in this post’s header graphic). Sadly, he passed away in 2023, but his style is timeless. You can find various art books by the late artist still in print.
Planting a Seed (i.e., What’s Next?)
At just over 5,000 words, this is a project that I’m happy to finally see through to completion. I’ve had reference materials, sticky notes, and midnight movie viewings filling up my creative space for some time, and it’s satisfying to return them each to their respective home on my shelves. One thing you may have noticed is that there’s not much for video or online article sources cited here. That was intentional. With so many materials physically published and Blu-rays released, I wanted to revel in the analog for this project. A quick YouTube search on this topic or adjacent ones will likely spit out what you want, anyhow; this was a purely personal journey, and I simply wanted to share my close-reading methods with you.
That said, with the popularity of the video guide format, I might make a video version of this post for my YouTube channel. It could prove equally fun to hop behind the camera and thumb through the pages for y’all, but no promises. As for other Ghibli posts, Hayao Miyazaki made the forest a real character through his films, yet one could argue he’s even more famous for his films depicting aviation and other magical worlds. Until I find a new topic to obsess over, we’ll leave it at the trees for now.
To completely pivot, I’ve got a smaller project on the complete opposite topic currently in the works. Did you guess sci-fi cityscapes in anime? Hah! Think of it as a direct response to this post about life on the forest floor. Throughout fall 2024, I was able to escape into both of these vastly diverse settings. I can’t wait to show you that other half which calls out to me.
Also, I haven’t forgotten about the Makoto Shinkai “revisit” project I started last year! It got shelved for a bit due to other intervening interests, but I do plan to produce something worth reading. Lastly, as February draws nearer, my annual “V-Day Special” anime marathon awaits. More TBA soon.
If you made it to the end, I hope this guide will prove OR has proven helpful to your own understanding of Ghibli forests and nature more broadly. Thank you for your time, and happy reading!
This upcoming summer is my first summer break working an adult job . . . and I chose teaching, which means I have the next couple months off. Sooo, I think I want to try regular blogging again throughout the summer . . .
!!!!!
I’m still deciding what kind of content it’ll be. I’ll probably steer clear of “regular anime reviews,” which is too bad for most because it’s the blog’s raison d’etre that I seem to have abandoned a couple years back (RIP). Instead, I might dabble with anime-related topics floating around my life, subjects like tackling the backlog, collecting habits, art books, etc. Of course, if I end up truly going rogue, you might stumble across ramble/rant posts, manga/reading updates, and general lifestyle posts.
My goal with writing more throughout the summer isn’t necessarily to “revive” the blog. Sometime between my transition from undergrad to graduate school, I’d reached a state of contentment with my lackadasical writing habits and infrequent pop-ins (if that wasn’t already obvious). I guess I find myself with a bit more time these days, and I remembered blogging being a more productive way to exert this extra creativity than simply lounging around, especially against the summer heat.
I’ve also found myself more drawn to travel videos these days. Lots of Japan and Korea, but even some South American and European vlogs have made their way onto my YouTube recommendations. These videos have made me needlessly restless. Yet, I’ve also been inspired by their informal, almost spontaneous communication style. (Years ago, blogs used to be THE places for this kind of thing!)
Last summer, I studied abroad as the capstone of my graduate career. I’m normally SUCH a homebody, so it’s frustrating that I feel so much urgency to GET OUT AND EXPLORE ;_; And traveling is expensive, too! ACK. Despite efforts to resist, the travel bug still lingers from those sunny days, so I’ve made sure to pack my summer schedule this year with plenty of city trips and country drives. I hope this energy will transfer to a momentum to write as well.
So, as the spring breeze rolls into a summer storm, that’s where I’m at with my upcoming seasonal “plans.” You might’ve noticed that I used a Violet Evergarden visual for this post’s header image. Although I never formally reviewed the series or its films, I’d like to try and sit down to compose some thoughts over it now that I’ve rewatched it all. (It’s got loads of travel in it, so a reflection about soul-searching or finding a place to belong might be the direction I take with it, maybe . . . Hey, if it ends up being the subject of the next post, then I’ll have actually stuck to a blogging commitment for once!)
IF all of this ends up flopping, well, I hope it would’ve been for good reasons. I just want to have fun with writing this summer, and I’d like as many of you to be a part of the experience with me 🙂 ‘Til next time, be it tomorrow, the day after, or the days after that~!
“All of life’s journeys come with meetings, partings, and reunions.”
– Meryl Stryfe
Upon finishing Trigun (1998), Trigun: Badlands Rumble (2010), and Trigun Stampede (2023) for the first time this past February, I surprised myself when I hopped over to the keyboard and realized I had nothing to say. The words simply wouldn’t come. It’s not like I was blown away from witnessing a masterpiece. If anything, my experience felt mostly lukewarm, save for the tingle of relief that came from having cleared out another series in my watch stack.
So, rather than force myself (and any readers) through a more traditional review or reflection post, I figured I’d tug a bit on the unique setting elements that stood out to me either for their sheer creativity or potential historical allusions. Note that this is NOT a formal analysis, nor am I suggesting any authorial intent. Instead, I aim to connect Trigun with a separate history that precedes its creation, that which is bottled within my incredibly limited understanding of the U.S. Wild West, its motifs, and a few themes. Unfortunately for Stampede fans, this means I’ll mainly be sticking to the classic series. Mild spoiler warnings for the entire Trigun animated franchise!
Ready? Steady? Let’s roll!!
No-Man’s Land, an Ever-Expanding Frontier
When it comes to Trigun, the biggest draw for me isn’t its flashy characters or high-octane entertainment value. Rather, it’s the world that this sci-fi Western is set within. Some call the desert planet Vash and crew roam “Gunsmoke,” while others refer to it by the equally loving moniker “No-Man’s Land.” (There’s literally a Reddit thread dedicated to fans disputing the planet’s name, I’m not joking.)
However you stack the deck, this barren wasteland offers few sympathies towards the unwary. Although water is as precious as gold out in the dusty field, one can count on the occasional small-town saloon to have its shelves stocked with the goods. The liquor is cold, the women are tough, and everyone owns a gun. By the way, these towns or “Plants” apparently formed out of the husks of massive spaceships that crash-landed on the red planet long ago. This is the world of Trigun.
. . . And call me crazy, but doesn’t it kind of sound like America’s own Wild West?
Historians peg the start of this period being 1800 with Frederick Jackson Turner’s Frontier Thesis declaring the frontier “closed” in 1890. When we think of cowboy Westerns, our minds are pulling on Hollywood portrayals of the peak of this period, around 1865. Given the relatively large span of time, one can interpret the frontier as an idea, a metaphor of process that is not only physical but also political, even psychological. Famously, Turner coined America’s Frontier as “the outer edge of the wave—the meeting point between savagery and civilization.” As adventurers, armies, and settlers pushed toward the Pacific, exploration, struggle, confrontation, and compromise each came to describe this psychological and social expansion. Hence, the frontiersman proved his Americanness by taming this savage Western landscape. Sadly, it was humanity that became (and technically already was) a part of this landscape.
“We are searching for a place where we can live our lives in peaceful days. No wars, no stealing; a place that isn’t run by fear; a place where people can live, and actually trust other human beings.”
– Vash the Stampede
Whether cattle-driving cowboys and pioneers or refugees and migrant families from faraway lands, settlers of the frontier have traversed its rough terrain for centuries. Understandably, travel and setting play crucial roles in Western-inspired stories just like Trigun. More common than not is it to encounter characters in frontier stories moving from one plot to another in the search of a place to call home. (This is arguably the entire plot of Trigun Stampede . . .) Some ventures involve transcontinental travel or a plight from interplanetary worlds; other movements occur in intimate spaces as private as the bedroom or even the human mind. We see this mirrored in the way Vash strips down when he’s alone in his various busted motel rooms. The outlaw’s bright personality grows markedly dismal when he pensively reminisces on his travels, his fears, and his past. Across both anime adaptations, he manages to mask the truth of his identity beneath obnoxious smiles and booze, but it is traveling the frontier with Meryl and friends that slowly starts to wear down his bravado.
The Transcontinental Railroad Sandsteamer
As a child, I used to be a train-kid. Trains occupied such a huge part of my life, so much so that I thought I’d grow up to be a train conductor one day. Oh, if younger me were to find out that passenger cars would become obsolete by the time he became a teenager, he’d probably have lost his faith in humanity much sooner. Thankfully, traveling by train is the best way to cross Trigun‘s seamless deserts, and Stampede made sure not to abandon faith either—even if the redesigns look more like clothes irons than locomotives!
Wait a sec. Sandsteamer. Steam irons. Maybe Stampede is onto something after all.
By connecting the already existing eastern U.S. rail networks to the west coast, the Transcontinental Railroad became the first continuous railroad line across the country. It was constructed between 1863 and 1869, which according to our earlier history lesson matches right up with the height of the Wild West era. No wonder so many Westerns featured precarious showdowns on the roofs of zooming train cars. Trigun pays homage to this combat motif in two drastically different episodic plots depending on the series. The thrilling two-parter arc in the classic version gave us a particularly in-depth look at the sand steamer’s inner schematics, and I’m eternally thankful for it.
Wherever the journey goes, motion accompanies the landscape. Whether traveling by boot, cruising via sandsteamer, or hitching a ride on the back of Meryl’s bird/ostrich thing (or sports utility vehicle in the remake), the travel motif connects us to themes of personal growth, reflections of identity, and the cultivation of the agricultural frontier (for not everyone takes on the desert with pistol in hand).
The Big Electrical Boom
Despite the analogies I’ve made to frontiers and railroads, Trigun isn’t technically a Western; it’s a science-fiction series, one that sometimes toys with elements of cyberpunk through its action-packed set pieces and leather-bound character designs. So, the third connection I make here might seem like I’m reaching (because I am, I always am), but hear me out!
Trigun‘s representations of electrical power “Plants” echo the advent of electricity and the West’s increasing dependence on it for survival.
In studying the fate of the Wild West, three major factors contributed to its end: barbed wire fencing, privatized land, and the railroad. Now, electricity wasn’t commercially available in the U.S. until the LATE 1800s, and western settlers wouldn’t get a taste of it until well into the 1900s, some places as late as the 1950s. (Shocking!) However, what seemed a pleasant commodity at the start eventually turned into a necessity in rural areas. During the Great Depression of the 1930s, communities banded together to bring electricity to America’s farmland. With electricity, farmers could produce greater quantities of food and other resources.
Taken together, I find it most intriguing how the Plants or spaceship remnants that form the heart of each dinky town scattered across No-Man’s Land (AKA Gunsmoke) resemble giant freakin’ lightbulbs. These Plants can generate energy and food/water-based on environmental conditions, which makes them ideal as colonizing vessels. (Remember that point about “taming the land” from earlier?) Not only that, but most residents that Vash and co. run into are doubly sure to cite half of their worries lie with the inevitability that their Plant is DYING and that not a soul knows how to fix them. Except Vash, of course. Family secret and all that, y’know?
Like the dawn of electrical power and the final days of the Wild West, when faced with barren land, humanity had to turn to manufacturing artificial energy to eke out a living. This is the part where I add that my favorite moment in the entire Trigun anime franchise is when a comedically large lightbulb goes rolling down a hill and lands securely in the back of an equally large tank Lupin the Third style. Badlands Rumble, you are a gift to God’s green earth.
Ballad Repetition and Saloon-Style Swing
If you’ve ever watched an old Western, you’d find that, like Trigun, ballads and bars just go hand-in-hand with one another. Across each iteration of this story, Vash, Meryl, Wolfwood, and crew frequent a lot of bars. Like, a Cowboy Bebop number of bars. In fact, the 1998 series opens the first episode inside of one. This, too, would’ve been common for real outlaws both then and now, but I didn’t need to tell you that. Stamped on the cover of my Trigun Funimation DVD set is the iconic yellow subtitle “The Ballad of Vash the Stampede,” a lasting reminder that the series is just that, a ballad: a recount of this pseudo-mythical heroic figure and the dramatic past that immortalized him. (Or permanently labeled him as an outlaw in every town and territory on this side of July City, take your pick.)
The point is, the ballad is the story of an adventure, of a hero, his tragic gifts, and his triumphant deeds. And like any song, it garners strength through repetition. If any story is going to get remade again and again, it’s one in a similar disposition to Trigun where having an evolving audience opens itself up to new variations on the same theme. Even as a standalone ’90s anime, the series uses its episodic escapades to drive the notorious character of the “Humanoid Typhoon” into the viewer’s skull time and time again until the outlaw FINALLY meets his fated showdown against ruthless rival Millions Knives. If Trigun is remembered for anything, it’s without a doubt for being the ballad of one irritating pacifist with blond hair, round shades, and a crimson coat.
As an aside, music is as equally important as giant lightbulbs and steam trains for creating a setting reminiscent of vintage Westerns. Composer and guitarist Tsuneo Imahori brings jazz, folk, electronic, and orchestral genres into the 1998 and film OSTs that I can only call “electrified Western.” One moment the folk-style swing guitar is jamming’ out with the drums, the next moment it’s a storm of freestyle heavy metal. Or steady, sexy tango with bongos. Or smooth sax with jazz-style piano, saloon-style piano, ballad-style piano—look, if you can play it on a keyboard, Trigun has it. Stampede even dusts off its version of a “pipe organ.” Different composer (nothing but respect to my guy Tatsuya Katou), but still.
Whether ballad or blues, Western landscapes and their depiction entail a degree of imagination to create a complete vision of some kind. This is why I position the classic series over the remake; the classic carries charm in all that it does while the remake tries so hard to be “cool” that it feels like any sci-fi CG series with overly wrought apocalyptic tones and a lack of love for its crew. Still, there is motion in each landscape, and how that kinetic energy is directed will convey the magnitude—and the struggle—of the trying journey the frontier vehemently demands from us. And Trigun kicks that frontierism up a notch in every way. It’s not just the Wild West being re-envisioned—it is one wilder yet.
“I meditate diligently every morning. The subject is Life and Love. I quit after three seconds.”
– Vash the Stampede
Afterword: A 25-Year Retrospective Ramble
I’ll finish by addressing my lateness on two accounts.
The first is that this post comes over two months after my announcement that I’d be marathoning Trigun for my blog’s annual Valentine’s Day Special. I don’t really have any excuses aside from that I finished and didn’t really have too much to say on Trigun at the time . . . Now we’re here 2,000+ words later . . . However, this tardiness does not compare to the second offense: my being 25 years late to watching this much beloved sci-fi anime. Granted, it was released before I was born, but I’ve had Funimation’s Anime Classics DVD set collecting dust on my shelf for several years. I’m not sure why I waited so long to start Trigun, but in a way, I’m glad I watched it when I did. Any past iteration of myself would’ve found it annoyingly quirky. Now, after the release of its hotly anticipated remake series, I get to say it’s annoyingly quirky YET better than the original story it was based on. (Sorry, but when one has gung-ho gunslinger Milly Thompson and the other doesn’t, the decision is obvious!)
Trigun was a unique experience for me because it failed astonishingly at making me care about the epic sci-fi plot and the MC redemption arc it was working towards and said, “Hey, check out these lamp cities instead! We have trains, too!” Damn. Looking back, the whole marathon feels like a dream. Glad I dreamt it, but I’m happier to be awake.
Ok, I think I’m done with the ballad of Vash the Stampede and its lovely calamities for a bit. Someone take it away from me so we can queue up a different tune.
I’m back with a more “typical” aniblogger post this time. I’ll have more updates about what I’ve been watching, reading, and listening to in the near future. For this post, I wanted to reach out to you with a question:
What anime from 2023 did YOU think were worth watching?
I caught a couple odd series each season (like finishing Netflix’s CG Ultraman and Attack on Titan: The Final Chapters) but my simulcast slate was mostly clean for the year. This was largely due to preparing for my graduate exam in the spring, studying abroad in the summer, and starting a new job in the fall. Hopefully you’ll agree that it would’ve been a bit tricky for anyone to keep up with what’s current given all I went through in 2023!
I DO come prepared, however, with a small list of titles that I saved throughout the year in my back pocket. So, here’s everything I’d like to watch from 2023!
Winter 2023
Nier: Automata Ver1.1a – I love the game, firstly, and the anime is a pleasant way to revisit this world of machines and ruin. I found the first couple episodes quite enjoyable, so I’m mainly coming back to see how the adaptation turned out. I heard there’s more coming, which makes me excited that A-1 Pictures is committed to adapting the “full” story.
Buddy Daddies – No thoughts on this one other than the premise is cute.
Trigun Stampede – I still need to watch the OG Trigun, but I love the character re-designs!
Tsurune – The Linking Shot – I’ll revisit the first season before watching this sequel. From what I remember, I found the pacing of Tsurune sleepy and the characters somewhat unremarkable. Maybe a rewatch will change that.
Gridman Universe – I’m ALWAYS down for Gridman, and it’s crazy that this is the end! ;_;
Spring 2023
Demon Slayer: Swordsmith Village Arc – I’ve continue to stick with this series because I enjoy seeing the work Ufotable puts out. The previous season was tons of fun, and I’m hoping that this third season carries that energy forward.
Oshi No Ko – This was a much-discussed title! If I have time, I’ll scope it out and see what the hype was about. Cute character designs, too.
Heavenly Delusion – Production I.G is another studio I’m fond of, especially when it comes to their sci-fi catalog. The manga for this mystery/survival series intrigued me awhile back, so if I like the anime, I’ll consider picking up the volumes. Really stoked to watch it!
Ranking of Kings – The Treasure Chest of Courage – Yay, more adventures of Bojji and Kage!
Ooku – The Inner Chambers – This one rides in the same train as Heavenly Delusion does for me. I even own the first volume of the manga. (Don’t ask why I haven’t read it.) Hope the anime turned out well!
Sailor Moon: Cosmos – At last, we’ll see how the new Sailor Moon adaptation ends! I’m a little concerned that Netflix hasn’t licensed it for streaming yet, though. My expectations for the production are somewhat low, so I’m just hoping these final films are able to stir an emotional reaction from a longtime SM fan.
Summer 2023
Jujutsu Kaisen Season 2 – I started the first season on a whim like a year ago, and I got surprisingly addicted to its rhythm of action and comedy. Of course, this has been the only series people have talked about since 😛 so I’ll get around to the sequel eventually.
Fate/strange Fake – Whispers of Dawn – Is this just the first episode? If so, I’ll wait until the full series is released before starting. Looks great, though!
Maboroshi – The latest film from director Mari Okada JUST came out on Netflix the other day! Always happy to see what she’s working on.
Fall 2023
Frieren – Beyond Journey’s End – This was on a lot of friends’ “best of year” lists, and the online response seems to range from “like it” to “LOVE IT.” Can’t wait to put names to all these faces!
SPY X FAMILY Season 2 – This reminds me, I still need to finish the last few episodes of season one! Oh dear, where does the time go!
The Apothecary Diaries – If you followed Frieren and friends this past fall, then you also probably watched this little series. I recall being initially grabbed by the anime’s gorgeous teaser visuals and videos. Now that it’s out, I’m hoping that the characters are as charming as the animation I saw.
PLUTO – Another short series dropped on Netflix, I’m a complete stranger to the works of Naoki Urasawa. I anticipate this will serve as my gateway drug.
Considering the sheer volume of anime that is produced each season, this is a fairly small, manageable list. I handpick everything so carefully because I’m still working through my physical to-be-watched stack. (We’re making steady progress!) Still, hidden gems slip through the cracks, so be sure to let me know what you liked from all the anime released in 2023. Thanks for reading, and ’til next time!
Hey guys! Welcome to the eighth Summer Film Spotlight! Today we are taking a look at STUDIO PONOC’s 2018 film Modest Heroes, which was released by GKIDS. The film is actually comprised of three short films—“Kanini & Kanino,” “Life Ain’t Gonna Lose,” “ and “Invisible”—each of which are about 15 minutes in length and focus on the different heroes we may encounter in our daily lives.
I hope you’ll continue to join us on this summer journey through film. See you next Saturday with another Summer Anime Film Spotlight!
Interested in more anime, manga, or K-pop content? Subscribe to stick around 🙏
Hey guys! Welcome to the fourth Summer Film Spotlight! Today we are celebrating GKIDS’s beautiful dubbed Blu-ray release of Ayumu Watanabe’s Children of the Sea. This 2019 film adaptation of Daisuke Igarashi’s famed manga explores the fascinating relationship between nature and the human mind. Contemplated is the relativity of existence, and how we’re not so different from the stars shining above us—or the creatures lurking deep below the ocean’s depths.
I hope you’ll continue to join us on this summer journey through film. See you next Saturday with another Summer Anime Film Spotlight!
Interested in more anime, manga, or K-pop content? Subscribe to stick around 🙏
Chances are that if you were linked here from another blogger pal, then you might be new. To those first-timers, “Hi, I’m Takuto, welcome to my anime cafe!” For the OWLS blog tour’s eighth monthly topic of 2020, “Folklore,” I decided to ditch reviewing Kimetsu no Yaiba in favor of discussing the fascinating world of Demon Slayer where dark creatures of the night stalk humanity in plain sight.
This month’s OWLS topic was inspired by the name of Taylor Swift’s new album, Folklore. Yet, rather than using her conceptual definition of what “folklore” means, we are going to use its original meaning: we are going to explore the traditions and cultures of a specific group and community within pop cultural texts.
I figured it was a no-brainer that Demon Slayer would be a “Cafe Mocha” title here at the cafe, so I’m glad to be able to do something a bit more interesting than my usual review. Thanks Lyn for the prompt!
A brief discussion of the 26-episode Spring 2019 anime series “Demon Slayer: Kimetsu no Yaiba,” animated by ufotable, directed by Haruo Sotozaki, and based on the manga of the same name by Koyoharu Gotouge.Images may include spoilers!
A demon killed his family. But, when faced against the darkness, Tanjiro hesitates to pull his sword.
Enter the Taisho Period
High up in the mountains, young Tanjiro Kamado works hard to sell charcoal for his less-than-fortunate family. Although his father passed away when he was young, Tanjiro has shouldered the burden of supporting his entire family with admirable optimism. On his way back up the mountain one wintry night, Tanjiro takes shelter in the house of a strange old man who also tells Tanjiro to be wary of flesh-eating demons that roam in the shadows.
To his disbelief, Tanjiro returns home the following morning to the horrifying sight of his whole family, slaughtered and soaked in crimson blood. Worse yet, his sister Nezuko somehow managed to survive—only now she has been turned into one of those bloodthirsty demons of lore. Overwrought with rage, Tanjiro swears to avenge his family and save his dear sister’s remaining humanity. Guided by his unusually keen sense of smell, Tanjiro seeks a way of getting stronger, which leads him to joining a secret society devoted to slaying demons and protecting mankind: the Demon Slayer Corps.
Perhaps one of the most fascinating aspects of the series is its setting’s historical roots—Demon Slayer is actually set during the Taisho Period of Japanese history (think early 1900s). It was the beginning of modernity for Japan, but all kinds of traditional charms are still adorned by the setting in characters. Tanjiro’s signature green-checkered haori, for instance, is an artifact that embeds us in this era. The same could be said of the traditional blue tile-laden roofs of the various tatami-lain village houses that decorate the landscape. Demon Slayer unashamedly embraces history, and I find that to be one of its greatest strengths.
To Devour and Destroy
On the surface, Demon Slayer is your typical shounen action anime with all kinds of exciting supernatural twists and powers. The demon slayers bravely traverse the land to vanquish human-hunting demons, despite the risks to their own lives out in the dangerous wilderness. Their main objective: tracking down and eliminating Muzan Kibutsuji, a heartless progenitor demon whose rare ability to turn normal people into powerful, murderous demons leaves carnage and bloodshed wherever he goes. It’s a simple premise, yet one carried out with remarkable pacing and world-building.
And it’s actually on that note that I want to talk about the demons from the human POV. No matter how you spin it, guys, the world would be far better off without these creatures. They indiscriminately destroy lives, taking whatever life they can for themselves just so they can continue devouring the next day. It’d be near impossible to convince someone that they are a benefit to human society. Thus, the demon slayers are wholly good and just in their mission, right?
Right?
It doesn’t take Tanjiro long to figure out that, yes, even demons have souls. After all, these creatures were once human, and they still retain some remnants of their humanity in their mannerisms, desires, and deepest wishes. Seeing their entire lives flashing before his eyes upon death, Tanjiro comes to realize that no demon truly wanted to become such a creature. Whenever he swings his sword to kill, he really is taking a human life.
Tanjiro’s continuous encounters with the demons compels him to deliver not curses, but salvation to the demons he slays. To that end, Tanjiro arms himself against these creatures not with blind hatred, but a newfound sympathy for their individual struggles and heartache. I guess trying to understand the demons only makes the job of extinguishing them that much harder, though . . .
Something More than Survival
Although we are only teased with a brief inside look at Muzan Kibutsuji’s deadly league of demons, the Twelve Kizuki (or Moon Demons), we can see that the demons aren’t simply a chaotic mess of evil like folklore might dictate. Over and over again we are told that the demons blindly consume, thinking only of themselves and answering to no one. This is not true. Yes, some demons are doomed to roaming the countryside, aimlessly fending for themselves, by themselves. Others decide to move in groups, however, and this single fact changes everything for the Demon Slayer Corps.
Over time, Muzan Kibutsuji has silently amassed a force of demons that swear absolute fealty to only him (else they be shredded to pieces by Kibutsuji himself). He manipulates the hearts of people with little chance or will for themselves, transforming them into these horrid creatures and commanding their lives henceforth. Some of the Twelve Kizuki follow him out of a sick devotion to his cause; others out of blackmail. But all obey him out of fear, and there is no undoing his curse.
Under the light of the moon, the Twelve Kizuki commit cruel organized crimes and claim their territories by staining them with blood. Using the terrifying powers gifted to him by Kibutsuji, one particular Twelve Kizuki tries to establish a family of demons for himself, something which has never been heard of before (save for the case of Nezuko Kamado). While his means are grim and appalling, he’s a breathing example of defying the common lore surrounding the demons. Yes, they kill a lot of people—but is there something more beyond merely wanting to survive as a demon? In this society where demons stalk the shadows of the mortal world, one can never truly trust the legends.
What the Stories Don’t Tell You
Like the silk of a spider’s thread, Demon Slayer navigates through an intricate web of conflicts where the main goal is to survive through the night. When two cultures collide, one supersedes the other, proving that the two cannot thrive simultaneously. Similarly, as Tanjiro and the other demon slayers uncover more about the suffering of their common enemy, the line dividing murdering out of hatred and murdering to protect becomes increasingly blurred.
Despite how purely wicked some of these demons seem—despite how earnestly I wish Tanjiro would just cut them down and move on with things—I can’t help but feel pity for the demons. Really, it’d almost be easier if Tanjiro didn’t get that glimpse of their life right before their inevitable death—if he didn’t see their tears bubbling forth as their decapitated head rolls to the floor. It’s just . . . sad. (But it’s a greater shame that some demons, like some humans, choose to do evil for evil’s sake, and thus are hard to earn sympathies from.)
At the end of the day, I’m honestly not sure I could do the work that Tanjiro and the demon slayers do. The Demon Slayer Corps hypes up this idea that killing demons is a just and noble thing. Meanwhile, the demons are drowning in their suffering, agonized and deeply tormented day and night by their conflicting urges to kill for survival and earnest wishes to remain human. So, raise your blade, but keep your ears and heart open: What the stories don’t tell you is that there’s a lot of loss, grief, and pain in the life–and death—of a demon.
“Those who regretted their own actions. I would never trample over them. Because demons were once human too! Just like me, they were human too!” — Tanjiro Kamado
Afterword
I find it most difficult to talk about the series that are most popular, but there you have a few of my thoughts over Demon Slayer. It’s an incredibly compelling piece by studio ufotable, and one that I’m so glad I finally got around to! If it weren’t obvious enough, Demon Slayer: Kimetsu no Yaiba is a certified “Cafe Mocha” title, and a series you should absolutely check out if supernatural action anime are your thing. Even if you’re not a fan, there’s enough historical depth and cultural exploration that makes Demon Slayer‘s world so intriguing on its own. But hey, you can let me know: if you were in Tanjiro’s shoes, could you be a demon slayer?
This concludes my August 20th entry in the OWLS “Folklore” blog tour. My good friend Irina (I Drink and Watch Anime) went right before me with a fantastic post discussing the mundane yet charming yokai that are tsukumogami, which you can read right here! Now, look out for Dale (That Baka Blog) with a post coming Tuesday, August 25th! Thank you so much for reading, and until next time!
A brief spoiler-free review of the 24-episode Spring 2017 anime “Sakurada Reset” (also translated as “Sagrada Reset”), animated by David Production, directed by Shinya Kawatsura, and based on the light novel by Yutaka Kouno.
Haruki can reset time but forget she ever did. Meanwhile, Kei remembers everything.
A Town of Supernatural Gifts
Sakurada isn’t your average seaside town. Unknown to anyone else, its inhabitants are born with strange psychic powers. Upon being summoned to the school rooftop one day, Kei Asai meets Misora Haruki, a quiet apathetic girl with the power to reset time. Her gift comes with certain limits, however: she can only go back up to three days, and she can’t use it within 24 hours of the last reset. To make matters more complicated, she doesn’t ever remember using her power when she resets time!
This is where Kei comes in. His ability to remember everything and anything allows him to recall changed timelines and Haruki’s resets. Together, they wield their unique powers with their Service Club friends to aid the problems of others. As the club starts taking on increasingly difficult and crucial missions for the mysterious Administration Bureau—an organization which manages all the abilities in Sakurada for the sake of justice—Kei finds that the machinations of eerie organization go far beyond simple acts of service.
I love time travel stories. I know many people dislike the trope, but it never ceases to entertain me. When paired with a plot like Sakurada Reset‘s—saving others, government conspiracies, romance drama, etc.—you basically get a knock-off Steins;Gate (which is one of my faves). The only problem is that, aside from the last couple episodes, the series is really, really boring. Given that I find everything else about the series to be incredibly interesting, I’m chalking up Sakurada‘s slow and lackluster nature to the direction. At least our time traveling heroes are somewhat inspiring, right? Right???!
Apathy is Contagious
Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but Kei is one bland dude. Despite possessing one of the coolest abilities in the series, photographic memory, the gift does very little to make him likable. Like, he’s not rude or disrespectful, but he’s not exactly exciting to be around, either. I suppose he’s a SAFE option as a lead, but I’d rather my time travelers have a screw or two loose (like they tend to do) or have one overwhelmingly eccentric trait than be completely nonchalant about everything.
And sadly, Kei’s partner in crime isn’t much more interesting than him. In fact, Haruki’s hallmark is her absolute BLANDNESS, which allows Kei to tell her whatever he wants and she’ll do it. While I appreciate the sense of mutual trust that slowly starts to develop between them, I did notice that this kind of just left Haruki to be another tool for Kei to use (and not in the fascinating way that Code Geass‘ C.C. is to Lelouch). I’ll say that she’s reliable as a heroine, but not much else.
The rest of the cast ranges from similarly bland (man, apathy sure is contagious!) to unnecessarily complex. One example of bland is Kei’s best friend, Tomoki, whose abilities as a telepath makes him little more than the series’ top CHAD. Another is Seika, a girl who can communicate with cats, but is a weirdo and hard to converse with. On the flip side, Eri Oka, a punkish girl introduced later on who can implant memories, did nothing but make me want to pULL MY HAIR OUT, she’s so annoying. Same with Murase, a girl with an amazing power that basically makes her invincible, but boy is she a grade-A B*TCH to deal with sometimes. I could go on with describing my frustrations. Point is, they’re all good kids (kinda), just needlessly stubborn.
Calm and Quiet Seaside Energy
As Kei and friends continue to explore the city, I did slowly start to fall in love with Sakurada. Many sights became familiar, almost nostalgic, and I do think that the seaside setting does wonderful things for the story. Having the plot unfold in a smaller community than, say, Tokyo, allows characters to conveniently run into each other on the streets (which happens quite often) without seeming far-fetched. Plus, they have the ocean, and the sea is always a magical place for me.
If I had to describe the art and animation, I’d say what I have been about basically everything else—it’s safe. Not below average by any means, but decently pleasant, if not stiff and stale. (It sure doesn’t help that the MC’s script is boring as hell.) David Production took zero risk in making the powers in Sakurada look cool or exciting, which is SUCH a missed opportunity given how intriguing espers can be. Bummer. At least the music was good.
I couldn’t find credits for any other well-known work, but Rayons’ orchestral soundtrack compliments the pace of Sakurada Reset very well. The way some of the sad piano pieces transition to some of the series’ more casual, slice-of-life moments almost feels more like it’s music for a visual novel than an animated series. (There’s one particular piano/vocal track that really tugged at my heart.) This becomes more apparent when you start to realize that, for some reason, the music plays at a consistent volume THE ENTIRE TIME. No one “heartbreaking” moment felt more dramatic than the next, and I strongly believe that’s because the sound direction here—like the rest of the series—is so friggin’ lame. Again, good OST, just missed opportunities. WEAVER’s work on the second OP was BANGERS though!!
A Series of Missed Opportunities
For a supernatural school drama anime with mystery and time travel at every turn in the road, Sakurada Reset comes together as a strikingly unremarkable package. Its direction is steady (and sometimes quite artistic), but otherwise too slow to convince me to get excited about anything. Despite possessing unique super powers, the characters’ personalities are either disappointingly ordinary or straight-up noisome. And that’s too bad, really, because nothing about the series is terribly bad. It’s just average, and probably forgettable give or take a month or two.
If you came from a show like In Search of the Lost Future (wow, now THAT takes me back) and were hoping for something a bit more, Sakurada Reset will serve you well. It explores living with regrets, human longevity, and trust much better than other time travel romances do. However, if you came expecting a masterpiece like Steins;Gate, prepare to be disappointed—you won’t gain much from these long 24 episodes.
We’re connected by our abilities. Since we have abilities, the two of us were able to stay together all the time, automatically, as a matter of course. — Kei Asai
Afterword
In continuing to tackle my never-ending backlog, I was happy to be able to cross this one off the list. It sure was mediocre, but not something I regret watching. For all those curious, I consider Sakurada Reset a “Coffee” rating, and only recommend it if you’re longing for a particular kind of feeling, something transient and fleeting but, also, not wholly unenjoyable. If you have taken the one-way train to Sakurada by chance, be sure to let me know your thoughts about the series in the comments! Thanks for reading, and ’till next time!
A brief spoiler-free review of the original 26-episode Spring 2007 anime “Den-noh Coil” (also translated as “Dennou Coil”), animated by Madhouse, created and directed by Mitsuo Iso.
Nostalgia, Child’s Play, & the Internet
In the near future, people have integrated augmented reality their daily lives through the use of specialized cyber glasses. A virtual world of “E-spaces” overlays Daikoku city’s electronic infrastructure. Viruses hide in plain sight, yet only glasses wearers can see these virtual hazards. Children in particular find immense joy in tracking down old abandoned E-spaces and using them for their own game. Hacking spaces, switching servers, discovering damaged domains—it’s like the coolest game of geocaching you could ever play! Some have even taken interest in hunting for metabugs, small gems which can be converted into currency or special items in the digital world.
This brings us to Yuuko “Yasako” Okonogi and her family, who have just moved to Daikoku City despite rumors of some people mysteriously disappearing. While searching for her cyberdog Densuke, Yasako encounters Fumie Hashimoto, a playful classmate and member of “Coil.” Comprised of other community youngsters, the small unofficial detective agency helps glasses wearers solve various cyber troubles. The girls’ meeting also brings Yasako’s snappy grandmother back into her life, who just so happens to run a shop that sells illegal tools which interact with the virtual world AND is the bright mind behind Coil.
Like any program, however, there are many bugs in the system, dubbed “illegals.” Some are lost, aimlessly wandering the digital landscape to eternity. Other illegals exist to cause mayhem, and some are harmless yet like to follow humans around, much like a household pet would. Another girl, Yuuko “Isako” Amasawa, is also investigating these corrupt spaces, but her abrasive hacking style (and attitude) deters her from making friends. The kids in Coil are determined to discover the truth behind the mysterious viruses and disappearances, but little do they know what corruption lurks on the dark side of the web.
Virus Attacks & Friendly-Fire Hacks
For the entirety of the series, Yasako serves as our blank canvas as Fumie guides us through the ins and outs of the virtual world. The two girls become best friends, and Fumie’s intelligent yet loud personality meshes well with Yasako’s soft naivete. Navigating through scary virus attacks and friendly-fire hacks from their fellow classmates, the go quite well together as a pair.
But, if there’s one giant brick wall stopping them from having fun in this digital space, it’s going to be Yuuko Amasawa. To avoid confusing the two Yuuko transfer students, the kids call her Isako. And boy is Isako one tough nut to crack. She’s standoffish, rude, and totally not interested in making friends; rather, her eyes are set solely on collecting metabugs for her own personal mission.
To complicate matters, the incredibly obnoxious and bratty Daichi Sawaguchi (along with his self-named “Hackers Club” goons) are also trying to snatch up metabugs, drawing out much of the conflict in the series’ first half. As things get weirder and weirder on the digital side, these hidden secrets tell of disastrous things happening in Daikoku City. Maybe, just maybe, the forces undermining the kids’ efforts will allow them to start seeing eye-to-eye.
Given that practically the entire cast of this one is made of children, I’m SO glad that the English dub from Maiden Japan cast all the young boys with female dub actresses. (It just helps avoid the cringe of hearing a 30-year-old man voicing a ten-year-old.) I’ve never heard a dub where the children—to this extent—act and sound so much like children should. These kids are FUNny and are a hoot to watch! (And I LOVE Specs Granny!!)
Whether chasing down urban legends, stalking haunted hotspots, or connecting dreams and memories across time and digital spaces, these kids go on quite the coming-of-age journey. Together, they prove that the Internet can be a fantastic place for self-discovery—but also a potentially hazardous landscape without practicing proper safety.
Integrating CG with the Digital World
Although the show has a quiet, lukewarm start to it, the talents at Madhouse breathe astonishing life into Den-noh Coil. Mitsuo Iso not only directed AND created the entire story—he also drew many of the key frames himself! His style is jerky yet detailed, full of motion and expression. There’s some really well-animated character work done here, and it’s all in the details. Whether fidgeting children, readjusting glasses, or making silly faces, the animation fully encapsulates the behaviors and mannerisms of goofy 6th graders.
Despite coming from an era of anime where the use of CGI was almost purely experimental, the 3D CG works remarkably well here since Den-noh Coil‘s world is deeply intertwined with the digital space of the Internet. Muted, drab, washed-out Tokyo landscapes provide a unique, small-town community atmosphere to the series. Much of the AR special effects work is done with CG, giving us a nice distinction between the bleak watercolor skies of the real world and the quirky (yet dangerous) E-spaces that the kids are so fond of exploring.
I also found the entire soundtrack of the show to add a unique quality to Den-noh Coil. The series is accompanied by soft acoustic guitar and the quiet cascade of digital sound effects whenever the kids are dueling in back alleyways. Tsuneyoshi Saito’s OST, as with most of his other works (most notably Fafner), showcases the strengths of orchestral music. If we’re not getting weaving wind ensembles, we may hear the solemn beat of tribal drumming, or even the tender, evocative enchantment of the piano. It’s classic, and this kind of music will always win me over.
Connection, Disconnection, & Loss
Den-noh Coil takes a bit to get going, but enjoy its comedy/slice-of-life beginning. Trust me. These early-middle standalone episodes explore youth, life, and living side-by-side with this digital world, and are by far some of the strongest in the series. (The beard episode was especially great.) I’d argue that the episodic direction in the middle is far stronger than the main overarching story. Then again, I just find that the episodic style suits the series’ world and setting better.
About two-thirds of the way in, this sci-fi adventure kicks up the mystery with a starkly different plot set in motion. The character drama in the middle is also strong and even stronger at the end, which ties in well with the creepier subjects of the series’ finale. It’s a striking tone switch, but it really makes for an exciting finale.
These days, no one talks about Den-noh Coil (which is partially why I was drawn to it in the first places). I think that’s sad, because it’s more relevant now than it ever was in 2007 when it first came out, and I can’t help but think how highly people would praise the series if it was put out today. Certainly, it’s one creative piece of sci-fi.
Den-noh Coil tackles themes of connection, disconnection, loss, extinction, living within boundaries, and learning to push beyond certain limits. It explores what can go wrong in a world that lives side-by-side with technology, a world that can be hacked AND hack you just the same. Some stories are silly and eccentric; others are thought-provoking and startlingly philosophical. If you’re wanting an anime that explores transience in the digital age and you’re tired of being directed to Ghost in the Shell or Serial Experiments Lain, go give Den-noh Coil some love. It’s TOO overlooked and under-appreciated, and I guarantee it’s the early 2000s sci-fi anime you never watched—but absolutely should.
What is real? Does being able to touch things make them real? If something can’t be touched, does that mean it isn’t real? What things are really, truly here? What things are actually here for sure?— Yuuko “Yasako” Okonogi
Afterword
I had to sit on my rating for Den-noh Coil for a while. On one hand, it’s slow, a bit drab, and unnecessarily confusing with all its technobabble nonsense. On the other, however, it’s surprisingly dynamic and full of interesting ideas. And you know what, it’s for these reasons that I welcome Den-noh Coil as a certified “Cafe Mocha” title. THIS right here is what we call an anime gem, and you should seriously consider adding it to your watch list if you love sci-fi or augmented reality in the slightest! Had I watched it as a child, I couldn’t even begin to imagine the boundless fun I would’ve had with it! Are you one of the rare few who have seen Den-noh Coil? Please let me know, as I’m looking for fellow Coil kids to love this show with! Thanks for reading, ’till next time!
Takuto's Anime Cafe 