Anime Review: Daemons of the Shadow Realm

Sibling strife and plenty of intrigue in the new anime from the creator of Fullmetal Alchemist

Sibling bonds and sibling conflicts are frequent themes in popular anime. Powerful examples include Sasuske and Itachi in Naruto, Asta and Yuno in Black Clover, and Demon Slayer’s inseparable sister-brother duo Tanjiro and Nezuko. Sibling relations are often a side story in many adventures, adding emotional depth to the characters. In some stories like Fullmetal Alchemist, the sibling relationship is the primary story. Daemons of the Shadow Realm is a new fantasy anime from the creator of Fullmetal Alchemist which brings sibling drama back to the center of the story, but with a twist. Kind, down-to-earth Yuru will do anything to protect his twin sister Asa until he finds out that Asa is not who she appears to be. Neither is his cozy medieval village what it appears to be. The new series is full of plot twists, family angst, lots of betrayal, and plenty of magical creatures who are invisible to the rest of society. In addition to the intriguing premise, the story keeps viewers engaged with its movement between adventure, humor, and very graphic violence. Holding the diverse cast and action-focused plot together is the primary protagonist Yuru, whose particular balance of pure-heartedness and clever, wise cynicism is a refreshing change of pace from the usual shonen heroes.

[SPOILERS for the first episode] Teenaged Yuru lives in a small medieval village with his twin sister Asa. Legend has it that twins born on opposite sides of midnight will have magical destructive power (the power to sunder day and night). This leads to a quiet power struggle by outside forces to control or destroy the children. After their parents disappear, the children are raised by the village. Yuru is mentored in hunting and fighting skills but, for unknown reasons, Asa is kept locked in a cell by the village elders, and Yuru won’t leave the village to search for his parents because he refuses to leave her behind. Despite the strange arrangement, Yuru has strong friendships and support in the village, and remains close to and protective of Asa. But things aren’t what they seem, and everything changes when outsider assassins attack the village and brutally massacre most of the adults. They are led by a dark-haired teen girl who looks somewhat familiar. Yuru and his mentor Ryu (also known as Dera) are able to skillfully defend themselves, but Ryu decides to take Yuru and flee the isolated village. Yuru refuses to leave his sister behind and vows vengeance against the lead killer. But the assassin shares some unexpected news: the little sister he’s been protecting is a fake designed to trap him in the village, and the brutal murderer in front of him is his real sister, who’s been searching for him for years. Then, as he and Ryu flee the magically protected village, Yuru is suddenly exposed to cars, cell phones, and skyscrapers. We learn that Higashi Village is trapped in time but surrounded by contemporary Japan. It’s a lot to take in, but Yuru is surprisingly level-headed as he navigates a completely new world. In the process, he forms a contract with a pair of powerful daemons who fight to protect him. As the world battles around him, he must navigate his powers and fight off those who seek the control him and his sister. All of this is mostly hidden from the rest of the world. Only certain people can see daemons; few people can reach Higashi village, which is hidden from the rest of the world by magic.

But are the people of Higashi Village trying to protect Yuru or use him? Asa has been raised by the powerful Kagemori clan, whose manipulative wealth and crime connections make their intentions suspect. The story is filled with lots of betrayals, plot twists, and power struggles that keep the story enjoyable. But there are also enough sentimental moments to keep the story emotionally anchored. Cynical Ryu becomes a reluctant father figure to Yuru in their modern urban apartment. There are some fun fish-out-of-water moments as Yuru and his giant shadow daemons discover the wonders of modern living. But, despite being mystified by seemingly magical gadgets, Yuru has been raised with strangeness as part of his life, so his humorous fascination is always moderated. The idea of something he can’t understand is already a part of his being. This element is a fun exploration of the wonder of magic versus the wonder of science. And his curiosity is balanced with his solid instincts and a healthy dose of cynicism. After being abandoned by his parents and lied to by those he trusts, and witnessing the massacre of his community, he is not easily fooled by the smooth-talking manipulators who are trying to access his power. Asa, on the other hand, is fierce, cutthroat, and brutal, but she unexpectedly loves intensely, and is completely devoted to the brother she lost. Yuru treats her with bitterness for killing his village, but also with suspicious curiosity, as she genuinely dotes on him and tries to connect with him. Although he won’t forgive her for what she’s done to try to find him, he understands that there are larger issues at play, since control over the combined power of the twins will affect the safety of the entire world.

The pairing of opposites working together is a consistent theme throughout the story. Yuru and other magic wielders have pacts with supernatural beings called daemons. The daemons exist in pairs with opposite identities. Yuru’s daemons are the strong, giant, ancient, male and female warriors named Left and Right, who are fun characters with gorgeous animation and character design. The central story focuses on the twin protagonists who symbolize Day and Night. Yuru represents night and the power of “seal,” locking things down or bringing closure. Asa represents day and the power of “break,” destruction or opening to freedom. The duality symbolism is fun, and many of the various magical characters have their own quirky personalities. Beyond the core characters, the story builds outward with a growing cast that includes the various factions fighting to control the twins. Fortunately, the characters are introduced gradually, which makes it easier to keep track of who everyone is. Other than Yuru, almost all of the characters are morally gray, including Asa, who has no remorse for slaughtering people to get to her brother. This dynamic keeps the tension strong because you never quite know when someone is going to suddenly betray a character. Fortunately, Yuru understands the realities and is clever enough when dealing with the various factions trying to get to him. His balance of youth, curiosity, cleverness, and cynicism makes the show highly watchable without falling into the more common protagonist tropes of either excessive optimism or grumpy bitterness. And the quirky relationship between the lethal siblings is a nice change of pace from the more common protective big brother themes.

So far in season one, Asa feels much less developed than Yuru, but neither of them have extended deep moments of introspection. Fortunately, the brief moments pack a lot of meaning and keep the story grounded. In one passing moment, Yuru realizes and comments out loud that his parents left him behind. There’s not a lot of drama, but viewers can feel the gravity of the hurt in that single sentence. Elements like this keep the show entertaining and engaging despite the growing cast of characters. The show’s premise feels typical, but the delivery is clever and unexpected, with plenty of early plot twists. Additionally, the story gives us a unique and intriguing sibling dynamic that differs from the usual setup of protection or rivalry. Both Asa’s and Yuru’s love for each other has been twisted, leaving the twins to navigate not only the forces battling to control them but also their own personal connection that was brutally damaged through the actions of others. That internal tension is a great way to balance an action-oriented plot in this unique fantasy setting.

Nerd Coefficient: 8/10.

Highlights:

• Refreshing change of pace in the protagonist and relationship set up
• Complicated cast of morally gray characters
• Solid action with plenty of violence

POSTED BY: Ann Michelle Harris – Multitasking, fiction writing Trekkie currently dreaming of her next beach vacation.

Film Review: Masters of the Universe (2026)

Lighthearted nostalgic adventure that doesn't take itself too seriously

Saturday mornings in the ‘80s were a sacred time for fantasy loving kids, a time when they could indulge in a range of fantastical animated adventures. Some cartoons were available in the after school hours as well. Long before cable gave us 24-hour kids and cartoon channels, and before streaming services gave us on-demand access to thousands of superhero shows, weekend and after school cartoons were the primary gateway to adventure. Among the curated selection of kids cartoons was He-Man and the Masters of the Universe. The series, based on an existing toy brand, gave kids the animated version of action figures from Mattel’s Masters of the Universe collection. In full disclosure, I will note that I am not a He-Man (or spinoff She-Ra) superfan, although I watched some of both original shows in their original runs and have sometimes watched other iterations of the series, including Netflix’s She-Ra reboot. I mention this because the 2026 Masters of the Universe feels very intentionally grounded in that original sense of childhood nostalgia. Depending on your perspective, you may find this a joyous relief or an irritation. For me, despite the film’s many shortcomings, I mostly found it to be the former: a fun, optimistic surprise in a sea of otherwise perfectly appropriate and timely cinema bleakness and intensity.

In the 2026 adventure, Adam is the young prince of Eternia, a magical kingdom with talking animals and sorcerers. He is small for his age and hesitant to fight. As a result, he is pushed around by the other kids in their weapons training sessions and looked down on by his father the king. Despite this, he is friends with his strong friend Teela and is encouraged by his teacher, Teela’s dad, the head soldier Duncan. Adam’s home is Castle Grayskull, home to a sacred sword of power and protected by a mage known as the Sorceress. When the evil sorcerer Skeletor and his partner Evil-Lyn attack the castle, the king’s forces are overwhelmed. The queen, who is from Earth, is forced to send Adam and the sword to safety through a portal to Earth. But in the fall to Earth, Adam loses the sword. Suddenly (one time skip later), fifteen years have passed and Adam is going on Tinder dates and working in HR in Oklahoma City. Despite his average life, he is obsessed with memories of his home planet (although no one believes him) and is determined to regain his lost sword. When he finally finds it, it triggers an attack by a fantastical creature, which leads to a rescue by his now grown-up friend Teela, who takes him back to Eternia. Adam must use the sword and his own inner strength to rescue his parents, free his people, and retake his kingdom from Skeletor.

The major strength of this film is the lead actors. Nicholas Galitzine is believable and enjoyable as a likeable but insecure everyman who knows he’s destined for more than the drudgery of his day job. Camila Mendes, who did several seasons as Veronica in Riverdale, is excellent as the no-nonsense, sharp, grown-up-in-the-room in all of the scenes. Idris Elba is, as always, perfect as Duncan, who ranges from tough teacher to substitute father figure to defeated and depressed drunk to fierce soldier. Kristen Wiig is also funny as Duncan’s sarcastic robot companion. There is even a Dolph Lundgren cameo, where the former He-Man actor gives Nicholas Galitzine some cryptic advice about the way to be a hero.

There are many funny moments in this film, including the opening scene where Adam is telling his complicated life story to his eyerolling blind date. Although not all of the jokes hit, the story is, for the most part, amusing and very kid-friendly. Unlike other superhero live-action films, Masters of the Universe opts for comedy and camp as its primary tone. The choice is a bit unexpected in this age of edgy superhero interpretations that are either grim or cynical. Masters of the Universe is closer to the tone of the Barbie movie or the live-action One Piece series. But it opts out of Barbie’s cerebral social commentary sarcasm or One Piece’s balance of outrageousness and grim intensity. It’s most similar in tone to the 2017 live-action Power Rangers, a film that tried to balance a modern, edgy aesthetic with classic, campy, kids show nostalgia. Power Rangers was a film that started off edgy/cool in the first half and then jarringly dove into campy kids nerdiness in the second half. However, Masters of the Universe has a clear target audience and vibe in mind, and stays consistent in its tone of lightness, kid-friendly playfulness and self-aware nostalgia.

In fact, the film is very self-aware of its campy nostalgia. Adam reps the old Prince Adam outfit by wearing a pink button-down shirt and jeans in his non-He-Man scenes. He repeatedly acknowledges the goofiness of some of the things he says or does, admitting that many of his choices are based on a child’s worldview and childhood memories he wants to reconnect with. Although he is an adult, it is clear he is emotionally stuck in his childhood trauma, loss, and insecurity. In the original He-Man animated series, Adam’s fearful or lackadaisical attitude was an artificial cover for his alternate identity. In Masters of the Universe, he has genuine hesitation and insecurities. And when he transforms, everyone around him knows he’s the same person with the same insecurities. This evolution of the premise is an asset to the story, to humanize both him and his connection to his friends. And it avoids the always annoying trope of close friends not noticing that the hero and their clearly identical alter ego are the same person.

However, despite the appeal of the story and the fun tone, there are some elements of the film that are confusing. Given the intentional and thoughtful characterization of Adam, it’s odd to leave out any reference to his childhood upbringing on Earth. He talks about life on Eternia as if it is the only thing he knows. In other lost prince/princess stories, we get at least a quick explanation of their survival. Superman was adopted by the Kents; Emma from Once Upon a Time was raised in foster homes in the U.S. The absence of even a passing explanation for his survival was a distracting plot omission that felt like a missed opportunity to give this Oklahoman Adam some personal context. His bestie and roommate Hussein is a likeable but underused character who mostly disappears from the plot without an opportunity to get to know about his connection to Adam. Another strange choice is an extended detour into Adam’s day job at a human relations company where his obsession with swords gets him in trouble. There is a particularly protracted scene of his boss (an excellent Sasheer Zamata) lecturing him on sensitivity in a way that paints her as a semi-villain (she seems almost like a corporate counterpart to Evil-Lyn), and the scene is clearly meant to mock corporate sensitivity lingo. The fact that a consent joke is twice used as a derisive punchline is another strange choice. Later in a crucial moment on Eternia, Adam initially opts for negotiation and empathy when everyone wants him to fight, but he is soon forced to abandon that approach in favor of fighting. This throughline is a confusing theme in a film that is otherwise fun, optimistic, and likeable.

Like many films lately, Masters of the Universe is at least thirty minutes too long, especially for something that is primarily a comedy adventure. It is a film that has plenty of kid-friendly content and doesn’t take itself too seriously. The very last scenes and the first post-credits scene emphasize this lightheartedness with a big homage to the original 1980s cartoon in its final send-off. Although it deals with themes of empathy versus aggression and self-confidence versus insecurity, the overall story is mainly a fun reminder of childhood imagination and adventure. Depending on your mood, that may be just what you need.

Nerd Coefficient: 7/10.

Highlights:

• Self-aware nostalgia
• Solid acting
• Kid-friendly content and humor

POSTED BY: Ann Michelle Harris – Multitasking, fiction writing Trekkie currently dreaming of her next beach vacation.

Anime Review: Sentenced to Be a Hero

An intriguing fantasy premise that would benefit from deeper character development

The Winter 2026 Anime season was loaded with the return of major heavy hitters from the past including Jujutsu Kaisen, Frieren, Fire Force, and Hell’s Paradise. This powerhouse lineup made it hard for new shows to stand out. But, Sentenced to Be a Hero arrived as a debut anime with lots of promise, in both its premise and its animation style. The initial concept was unique and the character design was appealing. While the show is entertaining, it’s hard to say why this promising story doesn’t land as a mega-hit the way one would expect, especially since it seems to check the boxes for a fantasy adventure anime.

Sentenced to Be a Hero is set in a magic medieval like world where knights (soldiers), under the direction of the local military and religious leaders, battle hordes of monstrous creatures (demons) to protect civilians from destruction. The knights are periodically helped by magical creatures known as “goddesses” who have special powers. The series is primarily the story of Xylo Forbartz, a heroic knight who falls into disgrace when he is betrayed in battle and falsely accused of murdering his partner goddess. He tries to explain the circumstances of the goddess’s death but it’s clear the trial is rigged. Instead of being simply executed, he is sentenced to serve as a “hero.” In this culture, “heroes” are executed convicted criminals who are magically brought back to life and forced to protect the kingdom. Since they are convicted criminals, they are looked down on by other knights and by the local people. Each hero is sealed by a spell that grants them miserable immortality. In the event that they are killed they are brought back to life to continue fighting and suffering. However, each reanimation strips them of memories and their humanity.

Xylo is wrongfully convicted and sentenced to an eternity of servitude basically doing the kind of work he was doing when he was a holy knight. However, the heroes have minimal resources and are given the most dangerous assignments including suicide missions. Although they can move around and still exist as seemingly normal humans, they are controlled by seals around their necks and must comply with orders or face a painful death and reanimation. Xylo heads a ragtag team of other convicted heroes, including the fearful thief Dotta, the con-artist Venetim, the slightly unhinged killer Tsav, and the mentally unstable Tatsuya. There is also, Norgalle a strong, older fighter, who lives under a delusion that he is a benevolent king. Dotta stumbles upon and steals a box containing a new immature goddess Teoritta. Teoritta insists on forging a pact with Xylo despite his reluctance due to his prior bad experience with his previous goddess. However, when an attack by swarms of demons puts hundreds of military lives at risk, he capitulates and accepts her help. He and his ragtag team of enslaved heroes are forced to assist a squad of knights under the leadership of Captain Kivia, a woman who initially distrusts Xylo but eventually becomes a grudging ally. The rest of the series focuses on various battles and rescue missions involving the growing demon horde and the search for the various demon lords who control them. Along the way we are introduced to more members of Xylo’s team who apparently don’t always fight together, including dragon rider, Jayce and creepy, overly polite soldier Rhyno. Eventually, we learn the story of how several members of team became trapped as heroes. In almost all of the cases, the heroes are sentenced unjustly as part of a corrupt government cover up. Manipulating all of this drama are shady religious leaders, undercover demons, and local demon sympathizers who are happy to betray humanity.

Although each member of Xylo’s team has a distinct name and an overtly referenced personality type (thief, con-artist, killer, dragon-rider), I often found myself double checking who was being referred  when a name was mentioned. The supporting characters were conceptually interesting, but in the execution of the story, they seemed underdeveloped and not fully emotionally engaging. Unlike other anime where the side characters are essential to understanding the main protagonist, these supporting characters are mostly limited in terms of evoking emotions from the viewers. Even Xylo himself doesn’t reveal much about his backstory (family, upbringing, childhood trauma) and doesn’t meaningfully evolve over the very short season. Xylo is grumpy, understandably cynical, and pragmatic. He is paired with the newly birthed “goddess” Teoritta who is sunshiny, childlike, and egotistically optimistic. Even though she is called a goddess, Teoritta is basically still a person and vulnerable to being killed despite her magical powers. Teoritta is distinctly portrayed as childlike and not as a romantic interest. She is similar to Sylph, Yuno’s bossy, possessive, sprite-like wind spirit companion in Black Clover. Her personality is a contrast to the general serious vibe of the other characters. Teoritta and the other goddesses rely on praise to bring meaning to their lives and she is constantly asking praise from Xylo who is initially belligerent to her in a classic grumpy-sunshine trope. Xylo and the supporting characters are likeable but underdeveloped and the series relies more on the political plot than the interpersonal relationships to tell the story

Battling demons to save humanity is a story that has been done often, including in shows like Black Clover, Fire Force, Frieren, and even Bleach. Sentenced to Be a Hero revisits this popular story concept with a fresh premise of the forced sentenced heroes. But once the story gets rolling, the ultimate execution still feels like something we’ve seen before. As such, it is reasonably entertaining but not as innovative and uniquely engaging as it could be. Most major and popular anime have a moment that builds a surprising emotional connection with the viewers through a poignant moment, a tearjerker scene, a stunning moment of battle, a unique character introspection, or at least powerful and inspiring character camaraderie. Those elements are mostly missing from Sentenced to be a Hero. Fortunately, towards the end of this very short season, there are some big revelations and surprising developments that help make up for the intervening flat moments. Ironically, the person with the biggest character arc is the initially antagonistic Kivia, as she experiences a major shift in her worldview. Xylo primarily only evolves onscreen in terms of his treatment of Teoritta, as he gradually grows more protective of her when he realizes how many people want to hurt her. Surprisingly, one of the other best characters, is Frenci, Xylo’s former fiancé who is clever, cynical, and loyal to Xylo. Her status as fiancé also indirectly provides some abstract insight into Xylo’s prior life.

Beyond these small insights, Xylo, remains mainly stoic, vacillating mostly from annoyance to irritation. It’s not until around the seventh episode that we see him actually smiling. His perpetual baseline of irritation makes sense given the premise that the heroes are generally like inmates, not friends, and are not very emotionally connected to each other. That kind of emotionless presentation may make sense for the story concept, but it is hard to pull off without risking disconnect. Frieren is an example of a show with an initially stoic protagonist. However, over time she became a much more complex character. Solo Leveling is another series with little emotional content or fleshed out characters, but it still manages to be entertaining due to the intense and creative video game inspired action. The battles and victories in Sentenced to be a Hero are often overshadowed by the pervasive sense of injustice that are an inherent part of the corruption story. Fortunately, there are a few positive moments of inspiration where the townspeople show appreciation and even Xylo has a moment of surprise at being shown gratitude. 

Overall, Sentenced to be a Hero is a reasonably entertaining show that has a unique initial premise. But the overall plot feels familiar and the characters are underdeveloped in a way that risks disengagement, despite some dramatic moments in the series. Diving deeper into the characters in the future would be a risk that could be worth the payoff, especially given the short season.

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The Math

Nerd Coefficient: 7/10

Highlights:

• Unique and intriguing premise
• Little character development or story energy
• Complicated list of characters navigating a familiar plot structure in short season

POSTED BY: Ann Michelle Harris – Multitasking, fiction writing Trekkie currently dreaming of her next beach vacation.

Video Game Review: Ghost of Yōtei by Sucker Punch Productions

Let the wind gently guide your hand to the purchase button

Whispering winds carry upon them the golden leaves of the gingko tree throughout the waving fields of grass and rice throughout Ezo. There is wisdom in the winds, and alongside them comes Atsu, a young woman intent on attaining retribution for her long-dead family. Ghost of Yōtei occurs hundreds of years after the much loved Ghost of Tsushima, and though the story and all its characters are new, there is much that has been shared.

To begin, this game is gorgeous. The intro is enough to let you know the developers have taken care to infuse the spirit of this historical timeframe in Japan with their own art style. From the snow-capped mountains of Teshio Ridge to the multi-colored flora and fauna in the Yōtei Grasslands that open their arms to the player upon booting up the game, every aspect of the world feels beautiful and well crafted. The art design is not focused on hyperrealism, instead going for a specific feeling, one that captures an almost painted artistic aesthetic of what Japan would have looked like in the early 1600s. The small villages and towns feel lived in, the roads feel traveled (yet dangerous), and the castles and prominent landmarks (like Mt. Yōtei) all take on a life of their own. Exploration in Ghost of Yōtei never suffers from a lack of beauty.

It’s odd; I remember enjoying Ghost of Tsushima, but have trouble remembering many of the specifics outside a bunch of the story beats. I think it may have something to do with the game being a better version of a “Ubisoft clone,” much like the Horizon series. Unlike some of the more contemporary games (like Elden Ring) that eschew this approach to exploration mechanics, Ghost of Yōtei embraces the classic format. And like Horizon, it takes said format and makes it its own. Instead of using some sort of tower to unveil playable areas, paying for maps from the cartographer or accepting bounties will place markers on the player’s map that create a more natural sense of exploration. On the way to a particular place, you may run into a golden bird that may lead you to a hidden area, some new charm, perhaps help a wold in trouble, or relax at a hot spring that you can use to increase your health. Like I mentioned earlier, the world is entrancing, and it never felt like a chore to go from one place to another. Fast travel is instantaneous, and nothing feels too far away.

The game throws you right into the thick of things. With Atsu back in Ezo for her revenge against Clan Saito and the Yōtei Six, Ghost of Yōtei immediately places the player in combat. Traditional of more modern action games, the player can use heavy and light attacks, block, parry, and dodge, among other moves. The gameplay feels great, and taking on multiple enemies, or even taking on one specifically challenging boss, feels appropriately climactic and cinematic. While the duel showdowns are not as flashy as in Ghost of Tsushima, the sentiment still resonates with each intro; a battle to the death feels like it (even if the gameplay loop does not support that narrative for the player).

Swordplay feels great. Though I suppose I should expand to say combat feels great, as multiple weapons become available over the course of the game. Though the general play style is still the same, knowing when to switch and use which weapons against which helps with breaking opponents’ stagger gauges, making the challenging fights much more manageable on higher difficulties. In combination with the quick-fire weapons (like smoke bombs) and ranged weapons (like bows), the combat is engaging throughout the entire experience. Even while I was going around finishing up the non-combat related collectibles at the end of the game, I would still engage in combat to enjoy a bit of that Sucker Punch fun. Knowing when to use your spirit to heal or disarm an enemy comes with hours of experience (that I still did not always get right).

I occasionally had some issues with visibility, specifically when facing many surrounding enemies. Especially ones with longer-range weapons like the yari and the kusarigama. The developers made some accommodations for the player by showing a light from the direction a bowman was about to fire from (and simultaneously, any enemies around the player will duck to avoid the arrows). But sometimes the number of enemies is overwhelming. It would not have irritated me as much if there were no mechanic that relies on not being hit. Trying to build up your howl only to get hit by an unseen enemy was a tad annoying. Not a huge issue, but something I ran into quite a few times.

I refuse to speak for everyone here, but I have to say, I think the map is a fantastic size. It felt explorable while not being overwhelming. Many games try to cram everything (plus the kitchen sink) into their game to pad it with more content. Ghost of Yōtei feels like just enough. After fifty hours, I feel like I have unlocked almost everything, and yet, I still feel like I explored a pretty large game world. The side content feels good, albeit with a few underwhelming quests. I enjoyed learning music on my shamisen and would play some songs when I was walking around. The bounties are fun and varied, many with a story of their own that end in surprising ways. Sucker Punch took care to ensure that the side content felt meaningful, even if there are a few missed opportunities.

The story is great. It may not win any awards, but the characters are solid and their motivations sincere (though I believe Atsu’s motivation shifts a little too quickly toward the end). Voice actors are believable, and the animations that accompany them are fantastic. The voice acting done for some of the younger characters is done by adults, and it sounds terrible. Aside from that, the adult performances are spot on. Traditional revenge tale cut up into segments. Atsu is after the Yōtei Six for the murder of her family; she intends to cross each name off her sash.

While the gameplay loop works well, sometimes the desire for player choice impacts the believability of the world and story. For instance, early in the game, you can choose which member of the Yōtei Six to go after; upon completing whichever sequence you choose, some cutscenes will mention only the first member that you killed (which is necessary to advance the story right away), while others will incorporate every member you have dispatched. There is no order to it, and it would sometimes remove me from the world and remind me of the illusion of choice so elegantly debated in the gaming scene over these last few decades. While the facial and gameplay animations are fantastic, there are some minor animation issues throughout the game that are stiff or clunky, but they rear their heads so infrequently that when they happen, you notice.

Ghost of Yōtei’s story, like the rest of the game, doesn’t shatter any boundaries, doesn’t reinvent the wheel by any means. What it does, however, it does very well. Set in Japan in 1603, the game can easily transport you through its beautiful world and complex characters if you let it. I never felt the game falter for very long whenever it did (a boring side mission here or there), and I never felt the need to put it down for long. Coming from the superhero-charged Infamous series, it’s impressive to see what Sucker Punch has done in representing the Edo period in Japan’s history. I have yet to try the Kurosawa mode because I feared missing out on the vibrancy provided by the developer’s aesthetic, but it is an option for those seeking a more authentic black-and-white samurai experience with Japanese voiceovers. While some of the supernatural side quests push the boundary a little more than I’d like, the game feels grounded overall, something I much appreciated.

Those who like samurai/shinobi style games with a good story are in for a treat. If you have not played Ghost of Tsushima, it is not a necessary experience. As I’ve mentioned, this game occurs three hundred years later. There are references to the past, but they aren’t anything significant and wouldn’t hinder one’s enjoyment of the title. For those of you who have played the original, I believe this title is superior to Tsushima in most ways. With Ghost of Yōtei: Legends (a free multiplayer addition) on the horizon, the game will offer even more bang for your buck.

The Math

Objective Assessment: 8.5/10.

Bonus: +1 for beautiful authentic aesthetic. +1 for focused content.

Penalties: −1 for occasional visibility issues. −1 for story layout/cutscene implementation.

Nerd Coefficient: 8.5/10.

Posted by: Joe DelFranco - Fiction writer and lover of most things video games. On most days you can find him writing at his favorite spot in the little state of Rhode Island.

TV Review: One Piece Live Action – Season Two

Picking up the pace with more quirky characters, lots of fighting, and some tearjerker moments as Season 2 sails into the Grand Line.

After a long wait, the second season of Netflix’s One Piece live action series has finally arrived. Season One of One Piece was a hit with a range of fans as it explored the adventures of a pirate boy and his ragtag crew. Due to the quirky nature of anime in general, it’s normally a challenge to bring those fantastical stories and characters to life in a live action format. Fortunately, Season One managed to navigate the source material’s wild visuals and storytelling to create a show that appealed to everyone from complete newcomers to superfans. The show has strong diversity in its characters and great character chemistry which draws the audience in. In Season One we met the five original Straw Hat crew members, one at a time, with pacing that allowed for poignant backstories and the development of strong character chemistry in the midst of some big adventures. In Season Two, the slower pace is gone, and the show dives right into a dizzying array of new, outlandish characters along with lots of fight scenes brought on by the busy new antagonist, Baroque Works. While the new adventures lack the wonder of the first season, the characters are still charming and the adventures are still entertaining, particularly for long time fans.

Summary: Luffy (Iñaki Godoy) is an enthusiastic adolescent boy in pursuit of his dream to become a pirate and to ultimately become the “king” of the pirates. To do this he must find a hidden treasure known as the One Piece. Luffy gradually assembles a rag-tag but loyal crew to join him on his hunt for the One Piece which is hidden in a dangerous place known as the Grand Line. Among his crew are Zoro (Mackenyu), a fierce and cynical swordfighter; Nami (Emily Rudd), a cartographer and navigator; Usopp (Jacob Romero), a shipbuilder with a knack for exaggeration; and Sanji (Taz Skylar), a suave chef who is talented at both cooking and fighting. Luffy calls his crew the Straw Hat Pirates in honor of the straw hat he wears. Season 2 begins with Luffy and his crew finally entering the Grand Line and realizing how much they underestimated its wild nature and complicated politics. The primary antagonist for the second season is an assassin agency known as Baroque Works whose oddball killers target Luffy and his crew. But things get more complicated when Luffy comes to the aid of Vivi, an undercover princess, and meets a shapeshifting reindeer named Chopper. 

While the first season did a good job of entertaining a wide range of viewers, Season Two seems more targeted to established fans. Many of the new villains appear with little introduction and the plot moves fast as new obstacles and new adventures arrive. But, as in the first season, we are helped out by explanatory signs that fly onto the screen when a new character is introduced. The design and presentation are different from the first season, but it’s still a helpful tool, especially if it’s been a while since you’ve consumed the anime and don’t immediately catch the characters’ outlandish visual cues. The new adventure brings to life episodes of the anime’s early story arcs including the amusing giants of Little Garden and the tragic oppressed kingdom of Drum Island. As the plot and the pirate ship move along, several of the show-stealing characters from the live action’s first season are left behind, or only have brief moments on screen, including pirate captain Buggy the Clown, the pure-hearted Koby, and the stern marine commander Garp.

Fortunately, Season Two adds appealing new characters with particularly good acting. Among the best are the determined Princess Vivi, played by Bridgerton’s Charithra Chandan, and the stalwart, guilt-ridden Drum Island soldier Dalton (Ty Keough), the ultimate green flag hero who finds his true strength. But the most fun arrivals are the sweet and much awaited, Tony Tony Chopper (Mikaela Hoover) and his gruff mentor Dr. Kureha (perfectly played by Katy Sagal). One Piece stands out in anime for its particularly fantastical characters in very outlandish costumes. The live action show does a good job of adapting the character designs, rather than just directly copying them, so they fit in a real-life setting. This is especially true for the adorable Chopper, an orphaned reindeer who gets turned into a human-reindeer hybrid after eating a magical devil fruit. Chopper is the kind of character who seems impossible to pull off in a live action but the show succeeds in making him believably real and endearing, rather than artificial and creepy. Like Golum in the Lord of the Rings movie, Chopper is presented via motion capture so the facial expressions are heartbreakingly engaging.

Some of the future main characters like Brook and Nico Robin appear briefly as set ups for future story arcs in future seasons. The main plot of Season Two is Baroque Works versus the Straw Hat Pirate. With so many Baroque Works agents the story focuses more on adventure and fights and less on the slow moments of character introspection that we saw in Season One. However, we do get some thoughtful and emotionally impactful intervals with the tragic stories of Chopper and his former mentor Dr. Hiruluk, and also with Dalton finding his voice and strength to deal with the despotic oppression of his people. There is even a rare quiet moment of Sanji recalling cooking for his sick mother when he was a child.

While Season Two doesn’t have the same magic of the first season, it is still a fun adventure that manages to capture some moments of emotional storytelling and manages to showcase some appealing new characters. The pacing is fast and the tale feels like it is over quickly, leaving viewers anticipating the next adventure in the Grand Line. But overall, long time fans will enjoy seeing more of the major characters come to life in this latest wild adventure.

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The Math

Nerd Coefficient: 7/10

Highlights:

• Faster pacing, more fighting
• Appealing new characters
• Emotional moments buried in the non-stop action

POSTED BY: Ann Michelle Harris – Multitasking, fiction writing Trekkie currently dreaming of her next beach vacation.

Anime Review: Spy x Family: Season 3

Spy x Family returns for a bold, emotional, and action packed season 3.

Anime seasons ebb and flow, with some seasons feeling slower and others being absolutely amazing. After an uneven second season, everyone’s favorite fake family has returned in fierce form for an action-filled and emotion packed Season 3. The latest stories of super-spy Loid, lethal assassin Yor, mind-reader Anya, (and clairvoyant dog Bond), are poignant, stressful, and very entertaining.

Spy x Family takes place in Ostania, a fictional 1960’s style country in a cold war with its enemy, the neighboring Westalis. To prevent another devastating war between the neighboring countries, a cynical Westalis super-spy (Agent Twilight) is ordered to spy on an extremely reclusive Ostanian political party leader. The only way to do this is to enroll a child in the elite Ostanian private school that the political leader’s son attends. To create the required fake family, the spy takes on the fabricated identity of psychiatrist Loid Forger and adopts young Anya from an orphanage but is unaware that the child is a telepath. He then meets Yor, a sweet and kind city hall clerk who needs a fake marriage to help with her own job security because, in Ostania, single women over a certain age are often suspected of being spies or insurgents. Unbeknownst to Loid, his new wife Yor is secretly an elite assassin. Yor is genuinely kind when she’s not killing people at her night job, but she is a little clueless when it comes to normal life and she is unaware that mild-mannered Loid is a super-spy. 

Only telepathic Anya knows the truth about her adoptive parents’ true identities but, thanks to her obsession with violent crime tv shows, Anya finds Loid’s and Yor’s hidden occupations to be very exciting. After a wild adventure, the family adopts a clairvoyant dog they name Bond but only Anya can sense Bond’s premonitions about the future. Rounding out the cast are Anya’s grade school classmates, Damian, the political target’s young son, and Becky, a pampered but friendly heiress. We also meet Franky, the comic relief informant, and we meet Yor’s stressed out younger brother Yuri, whom she helped raise after their parents died. Unbeknownst to Yor, her brother is a member of the secret police who is suspicious of Loid. Because Loid, Yor, and Anya are all orphans, the show emphasizes the importance of both biological and chosen family ties. The balance of cuteness and violence is what sets the story apart, especially with a cast of funny supporting characters, all with 1960’s fashionable clothing and a cool retro setting. 

Season 3 has three primary story arcs. The first and strongest arc is the long awaited deep dive into Loid’s backstory. Throughout the series, we are reminded that “Loid” is a fake name for the spy “Twilight” which a fake name for a person whose true identity remains a mystery, even to viewers. Like Sai in Naruto Shippuden, Loid/Twilight has lost his original identity and takes on a new transient persona for every job. Also like Sai, Loid begins to change when he takes on a role in his new found family that reignites his long hidden emotions. But who was Loid before he accepted his life of deception? Other than a few fleeting flashes of a crying child, we know nothing about Loid other than that he suffered the devastation of war. Over a series of beautifully written episodes in Season 3, we learn about Loid’s creative childhood friends, his harsh father, his protective mother, and the idyllic town in which he was born. Without revealing his or his parents’ names, the story shows us how he went from being a playful imaginative boy to being a war orphan, then a jaded soldier (including a poignant early encounter with his current informant Franky), and eventually accepting recruitment into the spy program. After losing everything he loved, he learns to be distrustful of others and to use deceit to survive. However, despite the repeated negative impressions of the Ostonians who attacked his country, it is ironic to see how close and protective he has become of his make-believe Ostonian family. 

The second major story is a terrorist hijacking of Anya’s school bus. Conveniently for the plot, Loid and Yor are unavailable to help, which means this story is focused on Anya and her school crew who are on their own against a violent group of hostage takers. Unlike Loid’s backstory arc, the hijacking episodes have lots of traditional Spy x Family humor notwithstanding the tense premise. Despite the weapons pointed at her, Anya’s mindreading gives her an upper hand with the kidnappers as does Damian’s grumpy bravery and protectiveness, and Becky’s cleverness and loyalty. But the key to cracking the situation occurs when Anya discovers tragedy involving the main hijacker’s daughter and her involvement in a political protest. This gut-punch of sadness sits in sharp contrast to the primary humor and adventure tone of the story. 

The third major story is the spy conflict that ultimately pits Loid against his brother-in-law Yuri in a tense battle of wits and fists. Loid’s Westalis spy agency is betrayed by a double agent who steals their information and plans to sell that data, including the identity of their agents, to Ostania. Loid is ordered to stop the traitor before he makes it to his meeting with the Ostanian secret police. Unfortunately, Yor’s brother Yuri is part of the squad meeting the traitor and he is on the lookout for the famous spy Twilight to make his move. After much speculation throughout the series, we finally see Loid and Yuri facing each other in their true spy versus secret police personas. The result is intense and fast paced excitement with just enough family drama and irony to tie it together. 

A shorter but still funny mini-story is the introduction of Damian’s seemingly cheerful mother, Melinda whose encounter with Yor leads to a day of fun in which Yor repeatedly and inadvertently shows off her superhuman strength. However, in the hijacking arc we later find out that Melinda’s cheerful exterior hides disturbing thoughts and emotions towards her mostly neglected son. 

A common thread throughout the third season is the importance of family in all of its various forms. A second, less endearing theme, is the harm caused by authoritarian regimes and political machinations. Spy x Family’s premise is modeled on regimes that are politically repressive. Yor was originally willing to accept the fake marriage because being a single woman makes her look suspicious in their society. However, in Season 3 we truly get to see how repressive a society Ostania is. We also finally get to see Yor’s brother Yuri in action as an agent of the Ostanian Secret Police. His single-minded dedication to the government is unsettling, especially since it is the same government that puts people at risk just for being “different.” Overall, Season 3 of Spy x Family has the strongest storytelling thus far. It dives into difficult subjects and pauses the humor long enough to do those moments justice. But there are still moments of the traditional Spy x Family dark comedy, especially with Anya having to navigate a dangerous situation with the help of her elite school classmates instead of her super powered parents. This combination of intense storytelling and complex emotions make Season 3 of Spy x Family the strongest so far.

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The Math

Nerd Coefficient: 8/10

Highlights:

• Tragic and poignant backstory
• Big themes of family and political machinations
• Strongest storytelling so far

POSTED BY: Ann Michelle Harris – Multitasking, fiction writing Trekkie currently dreaming of her next beach vacation.

TV Review: The Legend of Lara Croft, Season 2

The gods watch over humans, but who watches the watchers?

Previously on The Legend of Lara Croft, we saw Lara learn to stop trying to save the world on her own and rely more on her allies. In season 2, we see her take that lesson to an unreasonable extreme and rely too quickly on a stranger who is obviously wearing a blinking neon sign that says, “Villain of the Season.”

This new antagonist, a rich entrepreneur named Mila, describes herself as being in the business of saving the world. To most people, that lofty goal takes the form of selling a new form of plastic that degrades more quickly. But in secret, she’s behind a series of thefts of religious relics, because her idea of saving the world is amassing enough supernatural power to press Delete and Reboot on reality. That’s why she’s collecting the Dragon Balls—sorry, the Infinity Gems—sorry, the Orisha Masks: with the magic of all the Yoruba gods, she’ll become an uncontested force to deal with.

This plot sets for itself a very unstable tightrope to walk. Lara is still the star of the show, so she has to be the one to try to stop Mila from remaking the world. However, as a rich white Brit, she’s a distasteful choice of hero to save Yoruba relics from misuse. Even though the script takes care to have her eschew her late father’s less respectable methods, it still has to avoid portraying her as so ethical that she might come off as a white savior of Yoruba culture.

So the show’s solution is to have its main charater arc happen to someone other than Lara. This time there’s no personal lesson for her to figure out, so she cedes the moral spotlight to a new character: the human incarnation of Eshu, one of the Yoruba gods. At some point in the past, he had a moment of weakness and failed to protect his followers from a colonial invasion, and since then he’s lost his self-confidence and self-respect. On one hand, this is a compelling backstory for a character to deal with. On the other hand, it detracts from the thrill of the season’s climax, because Eshu happens to possess exactly the repertoire of divine superpowers that can immediately stop Mila, so a whole season’s worth of tragic losses could have been avoided if only he’d heard the requisite pep talk a bit sooner. That’s the core weakness of this plot: Eshu could have saved the day any time he chose to. All that was stopping him was low morale.

Because the focus moves away from Lara’s choices, this season doesn’t animate its action scenes in the style of a videogame like the first season did. Lara can’t be the hero in this story, because that would be horrendously problematic, so the role she fulfills is as a catalyst for Eshu’s return to heroism. It’s nice that she shares with him all the personal growth she acquired in the first season, although it feels strange that a god would need that kind of lesson.

In a way, the plot of this season resembles the plot of Eternals: someone is hunting down the gods in the present day, when they’re more or less retired after centuries of watching over humans, and the question implicit in the call to action is whether the human world deserves to be saved. Whereas the first season had humans debating whether divine powers could be trusted, now it’s the gods who debate whether humans can be trusted. That’s a neat way to carry a theme full circle.

One last, welcome addition to the show is the character of Fig, a professional assassin who works for Mila and ends up occupying a niche as Lara’s equal in martial arts. At every exotic location our protagonists visit, Lara has a fight with Fig that tests both of them in skill, strategy and endurance. It’s an exciting tension to follow, and apparently a thread that will be extended into a future season. So  even after searching for treasure in sunk ships, mounting a village’s defense with meteorite armor against modern guns, evading a shark in bloodied waters, and making it alive out of a crumbling Viking fort, there’s still much more to tell in The Legend of Lara Croft.

Nerd Coefficient: 6/10.

POSTED BY: Arturo Serrano, multiclass Trekkie/Whovian/Moonie/Miraculer, accumulating experience points for still more obsessions.

TV Review: The Legend of Lara Croft, Season 1

For what does it profit you to raid all the tombs and forfeit your soul?

With the tiniest lip service to the ethical problems related to tomb raiding, the Netflix animated series The Legend of Lara Croft asks what that kind of life does to a person. Usually, in a Tomb Raider videogame, you’re mostly worried about the right timing of an acrobatic stunt and about the remaining number of bullets in a shotgun when angry dobermans come barking at you. In the show, it’s a given that Lara will succeed at everything, because she’s just that awesome, so the stakes become personal: is tomb raiding a worthy pursuit when it can get your friends killed, when it can attract the worst kind of enemies, when it can become an easy substitute for processing difficult emotions?

The adventure for the first season is nothing exceptional: it’s a globe-trotting quest to collect all the Dragon Balls—sorry, the Infinity Gems—sorry, the Peril Stones before the bad guy does, because if one individual accumulates that much power—I’m sure you’ve fallen asleep by now. For the most part, the adventure is an excuse to boast gorgeously drawn scenery from every corner of the world, including Mesoamerican jungles, Mongolian steppes, Chinese rivers and French catacombs. The quality of the landscape drawing is one of the high points of the show.

Also, it’s fascinating to watch the flow of a videogame narrative play out in television. In every episode, Lara has to solve a puzzle rigged with traps, or fulfill a side quest to find some lost children before the villagers will help her, or jump between areas of a room in a precise sequence, or frantically run around a dinosaur to shoot it dead before it eats her. Some of these sequences are animated to have the “camera” follow Lara’s movements just as if they were happening in the game, and that’s a nice degree of attention to detail.

But what really makes the story interesting is Lara’s inner journey. At the start of the series, one of her traveling companions is killed, and she spends subsequent episodes processing her guilt and learning the difference between protecting her loved ones from the ugliest bits of tomb raiding and pushing them away for fear of losing them. She’s incredibly lucky to have the excellent friends she has, because their support stays unwavering through her worst tantrums. She eventually comes to realize that choosing the tomb raiding lifestyle is something she needs to do for reasons that matter to her, instead of doing it out of loyalty to dead mentors. In particular, she needs to learn to not use her adventures to distract herself from her grief and anger, because that’s the same mistake that the villain makes in his own quest for revenge, so he serves as a dark mirror of what she could become.

So, in between climbing cliffs and dodging bullets and deciphering clues and wrestling crocodiles and sneaking in secret lairs, she has valuable conversations with her allies that help her grow beyond her learned coping style. The messy feelings she harbors about the burden of the Croft name get resolved elegantly when she decides that she doesn’t have to follow the template of how her father defined the Croft legacy: the name belongs to her now, and she gets to define it in her terms.

I don’t know whether the Holy Grail of a good videogame adaptation has been found yet, but The Legend of Lara Croft clears the bar of not sucking. There’s enough dungeoneering for those who like dungeoneering, enough drama for those who like drama, and enough comedy for those who like comedy. Tomorrow we’ll see whether season 2 can stay the course.

Nerd Coefficient: 6/10.

POSTED BY: Arturo Serrano, multiclass Trekkie/Whovian/Moonie/Miraculer, accumulating experience points for still more obsessions.

Anime Review: My Hero Academia — The Final Season

It’s the end of an era and My Hero Academia sticks the landing in the final season

It’s hard to believe the iconic anime My Hero Academia has come to an end. After multiple feature films and eight seasons of escalating battles, emotional struggles, physical loss, and societal betrayals, the series has wrapped up with a satisfying conclusion that doesn’t hesitate to lean into the imperfections of the characters and the reality of loss, while still leaving viewers with a profound sense of hopefulness. The long-running series follows the adventures of Izuku (Deku) Midoriya, a determined boy whose dream of being a hero inspires a diverse range of heroes, antagonists, and ordinary people, while he battles his own inner demons. MHA started out as a traditional underdog shonen anime with bright animation, fantastical character designs, and a feel-good plot. It seemed to be the kind of comfort adventure anime to enjoy without a lot of emotional exhaustion or complexity. Soon retail stores and cosplayers were diving into the show’s colorful palette and fun costumes. But early on, MHA began to dig deeper into its characters’ psyches and into the problems of families and of society as a whole. In between the energetic fight scenes and inspiring training montages, the show dealt with child abuse, domestic violence, racism, and mistrust of the government. After eight seasons and a significant last episode time skip, the characters grow from optimistic children into mature, flawed, emotionally complex adults. The last episode delivered an unexpectedly thoughtful and quietly powerful ending, one which embraced both imperfection and hope in its final message that everyone can (and needs to be) a hero on some level. This full-circle moment from the first episode of the first season was a powerful way to end the saga and answer the question of what it really means to be a hero.

[Spoilers for earlier seasons] My Hero Academia is the story of a near-future version of Earth, where a genetic mutation eventually causes most humans to be born with some variation of special powers (“quirks”). Those with particularly strong powers are sent to academies to be trained as licensed superheroes (simply called “heroes”). The protagonist, Izuku Midoriya (a.k.a. Deku), is one of the few children born with no special power (quirk) at all. Not even a minor one. But he idolizes the ridiculously brash and popular number one ranked hero, Toshinori (a.k.a. All-Might), and dreams of somehow becoming a hero to fight the violent superpowered villains who plague the country. After a dangerous act of bravery, Izuku is secretly gifted a transferable superpower from All-Might, who can no longer fully maintain it due to a critical injury. Izuku now has the potential for super strength, super speed, and super agility. He enrolls in UA, the top hero academy, where he trains his body to accommodate and control the enormous and dangerous power he’s been gifted. While at UA, he builds bonds with his teachers and friendships with his fellow students, who have a range of powers, personalities, and complicated backstories. But the idealistic setup is upended when a group of superpowered villains directly attack the children at the school, leading to a long term-battle over the next seven seasons that exposes upsetting truths and pits the young heroes not just against the villains but also against society itself and their own personal traumas.

MHA starts out as a kid-friendly, colorful, inspiring hero adventure with a simplistic plot: heroes versus villains and natural disasters. In fact, the main antagonists are a criminal group simply known unironically as “The League of Villains.” But, like all good shonen, the story quickly takes an intense turn. Deku’s powerful but stoic classmate Shoto is a victim of child abuse with a disturbing backstory which involves domestic violence by his father, the number two rank hero, against his mother, who is also a hero. Deku also encounters a child, Eri, who appears to be kidnapped and abused, and he struggles to help her in the face of societal denials that anything is wrong. When the heroes lose a major battle, much of society turns against them and against Deku in particular. The country begins to question the usefulness and trustworthiness of heroes and the government. Viewers see how easily people can be manipulated when fear and distrust take over. The fantastical character design of some of the heroes turns into an exploration of racism, as Deku learns about the bigotry faced by his classmates who are heteromorphs, those whose quirks create unusual physical features. We also see Deku’s journey to physical and emotional resilience while holding on to his core values. And we see Deku’s childhood friend and antagonist Bakugo progress from a loudmouth bully to becoming a true hero who is willing to sacrifice everything.

Building on all this, the final season dives into lots of climactic emotional intensity and plenty of powerful moments, including the final critical battles against the two main villains, with Deku versus the tragic and tortured Tomura, and Bakugo versus the sociopathic All For One. The final storytelling is elevated, showing the full heroic redemption arc of former antagonist Bakugo. We also see Deku’s maturity as he faces devastating physical damage and a high cost for his choices. The animation and music are powerful, and the character design of the two final heroes is symbolic, making them look more serious, mature, and less cartoonish in a way that reflects their inner development and the intensity of this final fight for their lives. The entire UA class gets in on the action, and the final battles also provide an opportunity for cameos from prior side characters from the MHA feature films or from earlier seasons. So many familiar faces cheering on the heroes is a nice way to signal the end of the larger story.

Unfortunately, a drawback of the series has been the two-dimensional treatment of the main villain All For One. However, in the final season, through a flashback, we finally learn the full backstory of All For One (a.k.a. Zen) and his peaceful younger brother Yoichi, the original owner of Deku's transferrable power. We see how their desperate childhood led to abuse, violence, and to Zen’s obsession with power and control over Yoichi. That twisted love and obsession ultimately fueled a decades-long battle between the brothers that reshaped the fate of the heroes and the country. There is a nice symmetry in the brutal Zen having the power to take while the kindhearted Yoichi has the power to give, with those opposite concepts defining “evil” versus “good” in the series.

For a show that started out playfully, the ultimate story arc and messaging became surprisingly insightful, particularly in this final season. The perpetually optimistic Deku had dark moments in prior seasons and eventually became an outcast vigilante. In season 8, Deku again experiences significant loss, and he is forced to make peace with an imperfect reality. In an intriguing scene, Deku talks with Spinner, an incarcerated villain, who calls Deku a murderer. Instead of arguing or crying about it, Deku calmly admits that he is indeed a killer when needed. The two have an odd conversation that acknowledges their significantly different worldviews but sparks inspiration in both of them.

The final season emphasizes the need for a cross-section of people to create the world we want to live in. Not just physically powerful fighters, but also engineers, teachers, people of different abilities, and ordinary members of society, because, as the final season shows us, physical power may be flashy and fun, but it is fleeting. Eight seasons ago, MHA began with a tearful Deku asking the cliched question, Can I be a hero? In a key moment in the final episode, two random characters, an aged grandmother and an abused boy, have an interaction that answers that question: Not only can ordinary people be heroes, but they need to be. Not in flashy ways, but in small, ordinary acts of compassion and courage. In the final season, many of the former heroes have suffered irreparable injuries and are gone from the traditional arena. But in that full-circle moment with two random people, we see the way small acts of kindness or courage can literally change the world. A major theme of the show is to go beyond our comfort level to do the right thing. Hopefully, it will help all of us to better understand what it truly means to be a hero.

Nerd Coefficient: 8/10.

Highlights:

• Ultimately satisfying despite some sad moments
• Solid ending with profound messaging
• Big fights, big emotions, and quiet introspection lead to a powerful final season

POSTED BY: Ann Michelle Harris – Multitasking, fiction writing Trekkie currently dreaming of her next beach vacation.

Video Game Review: Death Stranding: Director's Cut by Kojima Productions

Better late than never!

Death Stranding, six years old now (note: this is a review of the original, not the recently released sequel), sat on the periphery of my must-play-at-some-point list since its release. I say periphery because I never actually purchased it, but always intended to. A friend bought it for me last Christmas and, besides wanting to check it out over the years, praise for the sequel helped push it to the forefront of my pile (and in a year of games that is the antithesis of any backlog, mind you). This game pushed me through a range of emotions that I wasn’t certain it would evoke, and the funny thing is, few of them had anything to do with the story. Let’s go through them a bit.

Emotion one: Frustration. It’s rare that I consider quitting a game. In fact, I’m a bit of a completionist. Giving up before finishing a game’s storyline is a rarity for me, and yet, there was one point early on when I considered doing just that. Here I am, ill-equipped to handle the world of Death Stranding, I have my BB (Bridge Baby, or, a baby in an incubator that connects to my chest that can detect BTs (ghosts)), and I’m delivering a heavy cargo load to the Wind Farm up in the mountains. I’ve been careful, holding my breath whenever I’m near one of the BTs (again, ghosts), but somehow, I’m caught. I try to escape, but alas, I have too much cargo and the souls from the beach drag me down into the tar. The world sways as I’m dragged hither and thither, and suddenly I’m over a hundred meters away from my cargo and—is that… why yes it is—a tar-drenched whale breaches the surface, my BB is wailing, and I can’t soothe it because I am surrounded by ghosts and am literally being chased by a whale in the mountains. None of it makes any sense, and I’m trying to figure out how to get away from whatever is going on. I fall a few times, and the BTs are pulling at me. The BB is still crying (I detest the sound of whining or crying (or anything high-pitched for that matter)), and I am not only frustrated now, but the game has fueled my second emotion: Anxiety. Finally, I managed to get away, but now my BB has autotoxemia and won’t be able to help me scan for BTs on my way back. I get a message: my cargo has been destroyed. Perfect. I have to reload my save and do that entire area over again.

The opening hours of Death Stranding are a chore. I understand the concept of learning to crawl before you can walk, but the game doesn’t do a terrific job of making you feel invested right away, so it feels like you’re scraping your knees on cement instead of learning to crawl on a plush carpet. The world, while giving the desolate feeling that it wants to evoke, doesn’t give one of character. It feels bland and incredibly unrealistic (albeit beautiful; graphics are nice—even for a six-year-old game). Lots of suspension of disbelief needed here to believe that this map is supposed to be what was once the United States of America. There are a few ruins here and there, but nothing makes the world feel like it is the remnant of a country once vast and opulent in some places, and criminally underfunded in others. It just feels like a big, empty open map. And while that definitely serves the gameplay, it doesn’t serve the worldbuilding and immersion. Sure, things were supposed to be wiped out when the Stranding occurred, with timefall (rain that ages anything it touches) aging everything to dust, but some things evaded destruction. The setting feels like an echo of what it could have been. I can appreciate it as a game world, but not as a replacement for the entire USA.

After the Wind Farm mission, I did something that I don’t think I’ve done before: I sought validation on the internet. I asked whether I was crazy or the game sucked. How did this game score well? Some folks said, “If you don’t like it now, you won’t like it at all,” and at that I felt a bit disheartened. But then some heroes said, “Get to Chapter 3. Just push on past the first area.” And so I did. Anyone who gives this game a chance and has a similar experience with the opening, I say push through to the third chapter. Don’t worry about what you’re missing in the first area; you can always come back—and with better tools.

The third emotion, Confusion, came into play when I entered the second area. The story was a bizarre rollercoaster of plot twists that didn’t always pay off, a main character whose motivations don’t seem to match his actions for 90% of the game, and side characters with really odd names (Fragile, Deadman, Heartman, Die-Hardman, Mama—What is his obsession with characters named Mama?). Norman Reedus was an interesting decision for the main character, not because he gives a poor-quality performance, but because he’s so recognizable, and the role of Sam Porter Bridges doesn’t push him to test his ability, it simply feels like you’re playing Norman Reedus from The Walking Dead. This is a Kojima game through and through, so expect a weird story with weirder characters and some plot points that don’t always make sense, and you’ll be fine. The story comes together in the end, but not necessarily in a completely satisfying way.

But the fourth emotion I experienced—Appreciation—kicked in once the gameplay clicked with me and the world became this moldable map under my fingertips. The vision was clear, and the game had become addictive. I spent many nights thinking, “just one more delivery.” But that one turned into two, two turned into three, which turned into an invasion of a MULE camp, which turned into finding another place to connect to the UCA. I would get excited to find a lost piece of cargo for the connection I wanted to level up with and think, “It’s only a few minutes away; let me just bring it to them real quick.” The game has a distinct quality of making you feel you are, in fact, a very important deliveryman trying to connect a once great country (even if the map doesn’t seem like one was really there in the first place).

The gameplay is unique in some senses, familiar in others. At its core, it has basic third-person shooter controls. You get weaponry to dispatch enemies, both of the living and dead variety, and can use stealth to get the job done (though not as intricate as Metal Gear Solid V, the mechanics work well). The uniqueness comes from the delivery aspect of the game. As a porter, it is Sam’s job not only to deliver cargo, but to ensure it remains intact and with as minor damage done as possible. Sometimes, a delivery has a time limit. Sam can only carry up to a certain weight limit before he is over-encumbered, so it’s up to the player to ensure that they don’t exceed what they can manage. Not only is weight a factor, but so too is the height of the cargo. Too high or heavy, and the cargo pile will tilt left or right, and the player has to ensure Sam remains upright or the whole thing may topple over. Easy enough on flat terrain, but once you enter the rougher areas, rushing through is a big no-no. This game induces anxiety like almost nothing else. Watching as my cargo washed away downriver because I mismanaged my energy made me laugh (only after frantically doing everything I could to recover it all). In Death Stranding, if you fail big, you usually only have yourself to blame. And biting off more than you can chew, even when you are familiar with the rules of the game, is incredibly tempting.

As new tools unlock, the game becomes more pliable and the vision for the “stranding” genre unfolds. When you place a tool in the game’s world (for instance, a generator that charges all your batteries—especially vehicles), other players who share your lobby also get that in their game world. When you help yourself in this game, you help others, and vice versa. Every time I set up a system that made the world more traversable, I had hoped that it would make it into other people’s worlds. It was enjoyable to see my hard work pay off, and, in the end, I could get around a map—that provided many initial challenges—with ease. The puzzles in Death Stranding aren’t ones you’d find in a Legend of Zelda game. No, the puzzle here is how to make the best use of your tools and the surrounding landscape. As I bent the world to my will—helping not only myself, but others—as I made the premium-timed deliveries with minutes to spare, my cargo perfectly intact, there’s so much satisfaction that I almost forgot about that time that my cargo was destroyed because I was surrounded by ghosts while carrying a crying baby to a Wind Farm in the mountains while a whale chased me.

Almost.

I know Kojima’s story and characters won’t be for everyone. This is a man with an odd vision who now has full control over his work. I felt at many points that the game would have been served well by some higher-up saying, “This is stupid. Did you add it because you thought it sounded cool? It doesn’t.” Or, “Did you just randomly think of it this morning? It doesn’t fit, cut it.” Despite some misfiring in the story and a sometimes cumbersome UI, the soundtrack does well to echo the vibe of the game and put the player in the mood to make some more deliveries. The emptiness and desolation play into Low Roar’s hands.

I know the first few paragraphs came off quite negative—and well they should. Death Stranding had an abysmal start. You shouldn’t have to push through to get to the good part (especially when pushing through takes 6+ hours). When the game gets going, you can experience something unique on a AAA scale. Most games that innovate nowadays lie firmly in the indie camp, so this was a breath of fresh air. It’s not perfect, but despite my misgivings, it is quite good and worth exploring if you want something experimental and that does what it sets out to do (mostly). Despite my confusion regarding the end of the story, I still find myself eager to play the next entry. More deliveries? Yes, please.

The Math

Objective Assessment: 7.5/10.

Bonus: +1 for unique gameplay. +1 for addictive, yet at times relaxing, gameplay loop.

Penalties: ‒1 for opening hours. ‒1 for story misfires.

Nerd Coefficient: 7.5/10.

Posted by: Joe DelFranco - Fiction writer and lover of most things video games. On most days you can find him writing at his favorite spot in the little state of Rhode Island.