Seriously, what's wrong with this for dinner?
Ben-to is quite the show. The show has a demented premise, but the show’s action is so over-the-top, its characters so passionate, that everything just seems to work. Ben-to makes a spectacle out of one of the most mundane tasks of modern life.
I’m a fan of slice-of-life manga, but not of slice-of-life anime. I’m not entirely sure why I have this preference— in fact, I’m not even sure how one should evaluate slice-of-life shows. Their general lack of of an overarching narrative shields the genre from many forms of criticism, but it also forces viewers to evaluate shows more emotionally. Some of my friends gush about slice-of-life, while others shun it like the plague. Ironically, no one seems able to articulate why.
Truly regrettable.
I’ve been hyping Boku wa Tomodachi ga Sukunai for more than half a year now. I like Haganai (as it’s called by fans) not because it’s particularly good. You know how everyone has their own shit series? Haganai is my shit.
There’s no shortage of symbolism in Mawaru Penguindrum. From references to Gustav Klimt to train metaphors, it seems Ikuhara‘s got an endless bag of symbolic tricks. Today, I’d like to explore the symbolic usages of food and cuisine within the series. For Ikuhara, cuisine symbolizes family, love and camaraderie— perhaps more so than any other aspect of everyday life.
Where does this fit in the narrative?
Certain moments in anime are criticized for having “no plot.” When we watch characters walk to school, eat lunch or have afterschool tea, we complain of these moments serving “no purpose.” This isn’t necessarily true. These “everyday life” scenes simply don’t serve the purpose we would like them to serve. So why do they exist?
