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Anime Grab Bag: Absurdism Abounds!
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Anime Grab Bag: Absurdism Abounds!
Welcome to the world of absurdist anime — it’s our favorite wheel ever!
By Leah Thomas
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Published on August 21, 2025
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Hisashiburi desu, friends! It has been a minute, but Anime Grab Bag prevails, and man did Bridget and I have a good time with this one…
In the Anime Grab Bag series, we dive into the depths of specific anime subgenres and hunt, perhaps futilely, for hidden gems. Each month, long-time otaku and old friends Leah and Bridget spin a custom roulette wheel composed of qualifying anime and watch three random pilot episodes. You can find this volume’s wheel here!
While the wheel may contain almost every possible title in the subgenre, your hosts must abide by the following rules:
Each show must be an anime that at least one host has never seen.
Each show must be available to stream somewhere so readers can join in if they want to.
We are forbidden from doing any research on the show before viewing it, although a simple Google search and some Wikipedia-ing during and after are fair game.
We react to our selections and share our thoughts on where they fit into the anime landscape, commenting on everything from plot to character design, making comparisons to other series, and finally asking the most important question: Would we watch more of this?
Feel free to play along by watching these shows (if you dare), spinning the wheel to meet your fate, or sharing your thoughts below.
This week, after too long away, we are delighted to share our journey into absurd anime. Absurdism by its very nature evades precise definition—what does it mean to be strange and meaningless, especially when so many absurd shows harbor deep, gratifying meaning? Qualifying anime this week run the gamut from comedy to horror, full-blown arthouse to shonen whimsy. Welcome to the Wild, Wondrous World of Absurd Anime!
B: Before we begin, how I made this list: I first put down everything I have seen that is ridiculous, and then all the ones I had heard of—you know, Bobobo-bo Bo-bobo, etc.—and then I went to MyAnimeList and used their search function to look up conversations with “What the fuck?” and “WTF?” and “crazy” and scrubbed the forums and individually investigated each one of the shows.
L: I appreciate your sacrifice.
B: I also thought to myself, what is an anime that you wouldn’t show to people who are trying to get into anime?
L: I was thinking about the definition of absurdism, as opposed to nihilism. And both imply that life has no meaning, but one deals with it by being chaotic and silly, and the other is just… no fun at all. Anime is so often manic on the surface but harrowing underneath.
B: There were so many shows I debated over, because I was aiming for shows with a lighter tone. But then I put Mawaru Penguindrum on here.
L: But it qualifies! Even something like Princess Tutu qualifies.
B: Yeah, one of her classmates is an alligator, and no one mentions it.
L: Basically, no matter how many shows we add, something will be missing. And other shows have single episodes or arcs that are absurd as hell: take Golden Kamuy, which is mostly historical fiction, but also features a character inspired by Ed Gein who puts on a human skin fashion show, so… yeah.
B: At a certain point, we have to just call the list settled and spin the wheel.
First Spin: Saint Young Men (A-1 Pictures, 2012)Second Spin: The Disastrous Life of Saiki K (J.C. Staff, 2016)
Credit: A-1 Pictures
Saint Young Men is a solid bet based on a sitcom-esque comedy manga about Buddha and Jesus being roomies in modern-day Tokyo. Saiki K is pure slapstick and readily available on Netflix for those interested.
Both were disqualified for breaking the first rule of anime grab bag.
Third Spin: Inferno Cop (TRIGGER, 2012)
Credit: TRIGGER
L: Oh man, I have seen this. This show is terrible, but it’s a great intro to anime night with friends.
B: It’s not on my list of terrible intros to anime nights.
L: Your go-to intro to anime nights is always 2001: An Anime Odyssey and that’s great.
B: It’s true; I love it.
Viewing Summary
It is hard to describe Inferno Cop, both because it is so short and also so obviously, intentionally, stupid.
Ostensibly, it’s about a skull-faced cop fighting crime and seeking to avenge his slain family by destroying a cult of villains called Southern Cross. Let’s go over the events of the first few episodes (we watched three because each was less than three minutes long): Inferno Copsaves a pregnant woman from gang members, and the woman’s water breaks and causes massive flooding. Then, her baby is actually evil, a member of the Southern Cross cult. It transforms into a monster and drags Inferno Cop under the water, and then a bullet deflects off of Inferno Cop and hits the monster-baby and it explodes, and then our intrepid hero goes to court for infanticide, and then he shoots the judge, declaring, “I’ll show you a death sentence!”
B: A group of friends at TRIGGER were up late at the studio doing overtime, decided they had too much work to do, and said, “Screw it, let’s just make this instead.”
L: Exactly. We’re being let in on some exhausted animators’ inside joke.
Inferno Cop feels like the product of young adults who grew up exposed to the same terrible action films, semi-decent comic books, and the horrendous-albeit-weirdly compelling Ghost Rider adaptation as the rest of us. The show has Nic Cage energy.
Somehow, it’s hard to hate it. I am reminded of my own juvenilia, of smalltown weekends spent making lazy stop-motion Lego movies with my bestie, reimagining Harry Potter as a little yellow cannibal with a satanic voice. And, like most juvenilia, maybe Inferno Cop is really interesting only to its own creators.
Credit: TRIGGER
Conclusions
B: I used to watch so much Adult Swim.
L: What’s that show about the metal band?
B: Metalocalypse. Things like Aqua Teen Hunger Force, Robot Chicken. We’ve talked about the way you got into anime in college. The way I got into anime was every Saturday night at 8pm, I would make Top Ramen and watch from my bulky-ass CRT from the thrift store. I’d watch the entire Toonami block, and then the entire Adult Swim block. Religiously, from the time I was 12 until graduating high school.
L: A lot of people did! And most comedy during our teenage years in the early aughts was absurd. I was obsessed with The Mighty Boosh, Flight of the Conchords, Team America: World Police. It was a whole surreal WTF era of comedy. And it’s making a comeback. Recently, a sketch from Whitest Kids U Know went viral because it felt more relevant than ever.
B: I heard a Lonely Island song the other day and wondered, “Why did they make that? Why did they write ‘I’m on a Boat’?”
L: Deep, philosophical questions. But you’re right: that was 2008. Things were tough, and being weird is a byproduct of stressful times.
B: We are coming back to whimsy as a coping mechanism. And I think we need to state that there’s a real difference between absurdism and slop. People are tired of meals that aren’t filling.
L: People are also tired of the nihilistic stuff. Take this: a couple years ago, everyone was raving about The Bear. Now it’s a few seasons in, and people say the show is just miserable and shallow and pretentious. Well, when times are actually awful, it’s harder to give a shit about the problems of some egomaniacal prick harassing people in Chicago.
Would we watch more?
We probably would not, but we understand why it exists.
Fourth Spin: FLCL (Gainax/Production I.G., 2000)
Credit: Gainax/Production I.G.
L: I am gonna go ahead and say we have both seen it. What are your thoughts on FLCL?
B: I will say that I know it’s a big one for a lot of people, but it isn’t my favorite TRIGGER work.
L: Gainax. Pre-Trigger. Because Bridget… it’s 25 years old. Holy shit.
B: As a kid, I loved the look of it, but plotwise it didn’t grab me. As an adult I might appreciate it more.
L: It is 80% atmosphere, and that atmosphere is 100% like, effervescent cool. It has that charismatic edge, with The Pillows soundtrack and everything. It reminds me of the way Gorillaz music videos used to really hit. It’s also a really unusual take on puberty, which is maybe why it resonates. I don’t know how it’s aged; I don’t know if it has aged.
B: Well, FLCL really was the gateway not only to absurd anime, but to anime in general for a whole generation; we can break our own rules and watch it. Gainax also did Gurren Lagann, which people love but isn’t my favorite. I respect the art and animation.
L: Agreed. Let’s fooly-cooly!
Credit: Gainax/Production I.G.
Viewing Summary
B: Well, this looks amazing.
L: Yeah, this has held up 200%.
B: I forgot how good the soundtrack was.
FLCL isn’t always easy to summarize, and not always easy to follow, but man, is it impactful. In the same way that watching Fight Club, Trainspotting, or Donnie Darko for the first time as a teen feels like a mind-bending rite of passage, so does FLCL.
Preteen Naota thinks his hometown is boring, but viewers can’t help but note that the looming Medical Mechanica factory casts a strange, clothing iron-shaped shadow over the entire inaka-adjacent landscape. Surely the presence of such a massive factory means someone is up to no good, but why should Naota care? He’s preoccupied with uncomfortable feelings of resentment and longing, hanging out under (or sometimes on) a bridge with his brother’s abandoned ex-girlfriend, a high schooler named Mamimi who does not respect Naota’s personal space. Tasaku, Naota’s brother, long idolized and ever out of reach, has moved away to America to play baseball. Mamimi sees Naota as a miniature substitute and has no qualms about draping herself over him, cigarette dangling from her mouth.
Credit: Gainax/Production I.G.
But then Haruko, the most manic of pink-haired dreamgirls, a girl who might be an alien or a product of the looming factory or both, arrives on a yellow vespa, wielding a blue guitar—and whaps Naota upside the head with it; his skull develops a bizarre rectangular bump. Over the course of the short six-episode series, Haruko will pull all kinds of badass objects from Naota’s head, including a robot named Canti, but for now he has no idea what’s going on. Like so many kids, he has no option but to accept his circumstances.
B: It’s a simplistic animation technique, but it is impeccable.
L: Yeah, it’s so sharp and clean. How is this a quarter of a century old?
Anyhow, after Naota gets hit on the head, the alien girl follows him home, wins over his father and grandfather, and crashes at his place. He puts a bandage over his bizarre lump and frets over what people at school might say about it. Haruko insists on sleeping in his room, fixated on the lump she put on his forehead, but Naota warns her she must not use the top bunk. That’s his brother’s spot, after all.
Despite the playful pacing of it all, despite (or because of) the intentional chaos, moments of pause like this feel especially poignant. We are grounded by the realistic punctures in the playful exterior, and we feel the weight of his brother’s absence. Naota is burdened by his brother’s legacy in a way only younger siblings can understand. It is affecting, unexpected, and undeniable.
Much like this show itself: Bizarre plot, experimental animation, fantastic soundtrack, and beautiful backdrops, all rolled into a bundle of unexpected everything. Every single frame has intention. The seeming randomness is measured.
Halfway through the episode, we realize or remember that Mamimi is a tragic figure in her own right, either homeless or avoiding home. Again, the real shit is cushioned by the unreal.
When an alarm screeches from the walls of the factory, the Sony TV-headed robot emerges from Naota’s skull to fight a robotic hand, Haruko swings her guitar, knocks the bad robot into submission, and that’s that. And for a moment, when she swings, Naota thinks, “…she looks like my brother.”
Credit: Gainax/Production I.G.
Conclusions
B: When I first got into anime, there were a handful of shows that were thought of as the shows, the modern contemporary must-watch classics. Haruhi Suzumiya was one, Lucky Star was one. And FLCL was always a front-runner. And so I watched it like it was a homework assignment, and it was too much for me. I didn’t really get the hype.
L: It is so deliberately bizarre.
B: It is deliberately off-putting. Take that part of the episode where the entire story is told through animated manga panels without explanation—a part that goes on for a long time, really—there’s so much going on, and so many self-referential bits of genre; watching it now I realize this show isn’t really for anime beginners. This is a varsity-level pick.
L: Yes, it looks cool, and that’s accessible, but maybe the depths take a little more experience to appreciate. If this was your very first anime, you’d think, “Well, that was pretty batshit.” But if you know shonen and mecha genre tropes, you’d see the subversion and the threads of symbolism and sense that the show is working overtime to do something different. This is a really touching coming-of-age story, but that’s mostly a secret. It’s buried under flashy cool robots and hot girls and incoherent mecha story elements.
B: It’s philosophical too. And it sounds so dramatic to say it after just one episode watched years later, but it’s already obvious why this really is one of the greatest anime ever made.
L: Yeah, the punch that FLCL just landed on two veteran weebs who thought they already knew what it was is sort of astounding. When I first watched it, it made me uncomfortable. Like the innuendo, the boner jokes, the pressure of her breasts on him and his blushing—that used to be a lot for me to deal with. Now that I am older, I see it as a rare, honest depiction of the conflicting feelings of prepubescence. It isn’t really fanservice, it’s a novel approach to a phase we all go through that no one knows how to navigate. Being unable to hide perverse thoughts, the uncertainty Naota feels in public and in his own body—damn does it nail something unknowable.
B: Yes! And I didn’t realize when I was younger how much their ages play into it. He is so much younger than the girls surrounding him.
L: He’s just a kid getting thrown into trouble he did not ask for.
B: This is a show that really is everything that’s great about anime, and simultaneously, there are ten reasons you shouldn’t watch it as a gateway anime.
L: And yet for boys of our generation who were into alt culture, it was exactly the introduction they needed to make them lifelong fans.
Would you watch more?
Absolutely, we will! We’re going to rewatch the whole thing with our old biddy goggles on.
Fifth Spin: Kaiba (Madhouse, 2008)
Credit: Madhouse
B: I am excited about this. I’ve wanted to watch this show for a long time.
L: I know nothing about it. Oh, it’s Madhouse? What? Directed by Masaaki Yuasa, my beloved second-favorite director, but I know nothing about it? What nonsense is this?!
Viewing Summary
Kaiba is, on paper, straightforward dystopian science fiction. It is set in a world where memories and minds can be stored as cones of data outside of the body, and so bodies then become empty vessels that other memories or identities can inhabit. The wealthy members of society can purchase desirable bodies and place their own memories inside them, leaving the poor citizens literally disembodied in the slums.
Our protagonist wakes up without his memories, and with a hole where his heart should be, and we can only wonder whether he has always been an empty vessel or if he was once a person. We learn about the strange, dark world only as he does, moving alongside him through a setting unlike most we’ve ever seen in cinema, let alone animation.
And though I said sci fi dystopia, If you are imagining anything like, say, Ghost in the Shell or Psycho-Pass, forget about it. The aesthetic is so different that Kaiba feels like a separate species.
The art-style directly references Tezuka and early Western animation, a la Felix the Cat. It is both familiar and unusual, reminding us of everything and nothing: the character designs, animation, and color palette combine in such unusual ways that watching Kaiba is fundamentally unsettling.
L: I am already feeling like this should be more famous than it is.
B: It reminds me of so many things but it’s not like anything. The Scub Coral in Eureka 7, or parts of Garo.
L: Gankutsuou. Hell, Adventure Time.
B: Yeah, it has such a clear sense of style.
Credit: Madhouse
L: How the hell has no one told me to watch this? And he’s one of my all-time favorite directors, and this is so blatantly fantastic, and no one mentions it? What gives?
B: Everything is so stylized. In most science fiction, sharp angles are used to make the world look harsh and modern, and curved objects are there to make a place seem progressive. This is breaking those rules. It’s all rounded, but it is all bleak, too.
L: Man, I love the absurdism wheel.
Readers, when I tell you that Bridget and I were smitten and also feeling unmoored within minutes, I am not exaggerating. Every character design is unique, every setting unusual, every angle considered. When our nameless hero, with the help of a single-eyed ostrich creature, escapes the clutches of mind-sucking creatures that remind us of flying fish, he encounters a group of villagers struggling to find the right memory cone to place into the empty shell of one of their brother’s bodies. They joke about it and threaten to abandon his mind, demonstrating that such horrific interactions are all in a day’s work for these folks.
Bridget and I keep trying to get our bearings. We make comparison after comparison to other iconic series and film—Land of the Lustrous, Kyuosou Giga—but Kaiba keeps wriggling away from easy parallels. We reference everything from Fritz Lang’s Metropolis, with its art-deco design, to the video game GRIS, with its surreal visuals and soothing pace. The backgrounds recall The Cabinet of Dr Caligari.
Bridget and I both love Masaaki Yuasa’s other work—Devilman Crybaby in particular for her, and Ping-Pong and The Tatami Galaxy for me. Even so, we did not know he had this in him.
B: Watching this feels like dissociation. But in a sort of pleasant way. It’s that sense of knowing there are tons of stressful things going on, but you are incapable of doing anything about them, so you sort of just let it ride. I don’t want to go too dramatic too fast, but as a child who was diagnosed with ADHD, this is how I felt so often.
L: It captures the unease of being helpless and small in a big world.
For long swathes of time, we are quiet. We learn how society is stratified. We learn that our young protagonist is probably someone important. Like Pinocchio, this young man may not be a real boy, and he has to go on the run. Another boy helps him escape, and a bounty hunter chases him, but our hero escapes on a ship, accompanied by a slumbering girl whose picture is in the locket around his neck.
Credit: Madhouse
Conclusion
L: Where the fuck has this been all our lives?
B: Pretty much.
L: I loved everything about that.
B: Another show that is maybe one of the most amazing things I have ever seen? But it is also varsity-level again.
L: So arthouse it could hurt someone.
B: So, last night I had this dream. And I moved into an apartment—well, a house, maybe? And there was this area that was all windows and windchimes—it’s hard to explain. But then I was trapped, and then suddenly designer Rick Owens was there—someone in my industry I respect—but nothing made sense. And watching this was a lot like that. I mean, it conveys that indescribable feeling of your brain trying to process events, finding connections, but not quite putting all the pieces together.
L: Dreamlike is right. I think drawing comparisons to so many things while we watched was both inevitable and doomed. Because just like when we dream, while we were watching we could see how story elements were playing out, and they were familiar, but we couldn’t ever identify exactly why they were familiar. Not to keep overselling this series, but that makes it even better! Not only can we sympathize with this nameless character because he’s confused and he’s lost his memories; we can actually empathize with him because we feel basically the same way he does during the viewing experience—like we’ve lost our memories, too! Everything is familiar and nothing is right.
B: A lot of that is enhanced by the art style thanks to its shape language. Like, a character in this episode is wearing Goofy’s pants. What are those doing there? It’s so jarring to our brains because we expect to see elements like that in specific contexts only. Like, everything in this show was round except for the horrible device that sucks your mind out: that was pointy. Usually we think of round, soft shapes as friendly. But nothing that was happening was friendly or happy in any way.
L: Like, here’s a classic scifi chase sequence, but hey! The little ship has soft cartoon legs.
B: Placing such a scifi concept in an organic setting was deliberate. That’s where the dissociation comes from. It’s impressive.
L: And add to that the movement of the camera, like you’re being carried along with him like a toddler, the helplessness of being little. Adults romanticize childhood, but being a kid is also scary. People often have this glossy view of the past as a whole, and retro cartoon designs are associated with simpler times. But if you watch those old cartoons, they are incredibly dark and certainly not for kids. In the first Felix cartoon, Felix the Cat finds out he’s fathered kittens and responds by sucking on a gas pipe. Audiences these days have sort of been misled by Disney to think that cartoon aesthetics are only for kids. Kaiba is directly challenging that. It forces you to fight your own brain.
B: This anime had to be animated in this style. It could only be as it is.
L: How dare someone not have already recommended this thing that I immediately adore?
B: I am so glad we got to watch it.
Credit: Madhouse
Would we watch more?
L: That was beautiful and I will definitely watch more of it. But with you, so that neither of us dissociate too much.
B: Agreed. If I watch it by myself, I might need therapy. But if we watch it together that will be the therapy.
L: Of all the shows we have ever commented on in this column, this is the one that I hope people will watch. I don’t think Masaaki Yuasa has ever created something that wasn’t great. Cult following well-deserved. Why isn’t this huge?
B: From what I gather, there’s no drop-off in quality. But some people find it confusing.
L: Well, I guess I get that, but again, it felt less confusing and more disorienting. Maybe the packaging is throwing people off. Maybe some viewers like more of an anchor.
B: But the dreamlike unease is why we loved it.
L: You can’t win ’em all. I cannot wait to watch this with you.
Seventh Spin: Yakitate!! Japan (Sunrise, 2004)
Credit: Sunrise
L: This does look silly. “After discovering the wonders of breadmaking at a young age, Kazuma Azuma embarks on a quest to create Japan’s own unique national bread.”
B: Do you know who else is a Kazuma? (dramatic pause) Fucking Kiryu.
L: Oh no, she’s done it: She’s brought it back to Yakuza.
(Bridget is a Like a Dragon franchise superfan and, given the chance, will wax poetical about Kiryu and Majima until the end of time.)
Viewing Summary
The episode opens on an ancient battlefield, where knights are engaging in warfare armed with—baguettes! And we are informed that, for centuries, nations around the world have fought for bread supremacy. Alas, Japan, while famous for countless iconic foods, has no national bread to call its own. If our hero has anything to say about it, that will change. Kazuma is determined to instill a deep passion for bread in the people of Japan, using his magical, solar-powered hands to create the ultimate JA-PAN (pan is Japanese for bread). Like dough, he will rise to the top of the competitive ranks of bakers to bring his dream bread to the world!
We are laughing consistently from the first minute until the last.
B: This is gold.
L: This is exactly my kind of stupid. The conviction! The commitment to the bit! Shonen nonsense in unexpected packaging!
B: Oh my god. Do you think there’s a tournament arc?
L: Oh definitely. And I am going to devour every confrontation.
B: Was this sponsored by Big Bread?
L: Japan does have some staple breads, though. Curry-pan.
B: Melon-pan! And the kind with redbean paste.
L: Yeah, an-pan! And Anpanman is a whole character franchise, too! But maybe these breads don’t exist in this fantastical, compelling universe.
Credit: Sunrise
Anyhow, now Kazuma is being dropped at the station by his loving family, heading off to Tokyo to fulfill his goal of creating the consummate Japanese bread. We flash back to his youth, when he was a wild child of six, and learn that his love for bread started with his sister demanding toast for breakfast. But their grandfather is a rice farmer, so how dare she suggest it? Frustrated, big sis ties a rope around Kazuma so he won’t run off and takes him to the bakery, which blows his mind. “It’s like a toy store!” the little weirdo thinks.
The local baker is a handsome gentleman with a dark past, but his business is struggling. No one out here in the inaka wants to buy bread, though he studied in France and his bread is delicious. He senses Kazuma’s passion and teaches him to knead dough, and—can this be? Kazuma has the rarest, most valuable gift a baker can have: solar hands!
B: He’s got the God-Hand!
With said hands, Kazuma makes a loaf that converts his grandfather into a fan of bread at breakfast.
And my god, are we rooting for this kid. We are invested in his goal, and it is weirdly local and proud and so very, essentially Japanese. Choosing an art, pursuing it until you achieve perfection, and then bestowing it upon the world! This kind of dedicated, singular artisanship is so highly valued in Japan that there’s a word for it: kaizen, or continuous improvement.
B: This is kind of a niche sports anime in a way.
L: It is! It has all the story beats! Will the other competitors also have bread powers? Are there actual powers?
In the closing credits, we watch some real bakers make bread. A triumph!
Credit: Sunrise
Conclusions
L: I need to go to the bakery now.
B: What a great finale to our latest Grab Bag!
L: We had a wonderful day today, Bridget. Respecting your culture but also helping it evolve: supporting your elders but teaching them to keep trying new things, bit by bit.
B: Made in 2004, of its time but it wasn’t terribly animated.
L: Of its time, but the comedic timing was spot-on. And you know what’s a shame? If I had seen that premise listed back then, I would have assumed I was not interested.
B: I would have been interested, but to be honest? I may have been averse to all the shonen stuff. Then again, it avoided the tropes that bother me. Like, there was no weird horny shit. So many shows make the grandpa characters lecherous. But this kept it wholesome.
L: He was only a lech when it came to nattou.
B: Yes! And that’s great. Also, so many modern shows are sarcastic all the time. Everything is tongue-in-cheek, but not in a playful way. This had a purity I think I’ve really been missing.
L: Because you absolutely can’t have a character in the bread rivalry show saying, “What do you mean, bread? Bread is not important.” Because in this universe, it has to be important, and everyone has to agree with that, and that sort of big, goofy premise playing out in a straightforward way is so refreshing. That’s escapism.
B: I cannot wait to see Kazuma Azuma succeed. Like, when he enters the bread tournament and debuts bread #56, it’s going to be lit.
L: Not to beat that dead horse, but comparing this week to our isekai week is just a reminder that folks, there is really ambitious, compelling stuff out there—stuff that isn’t stuck in the repetitive story ruts. Please seek it out! Like, even Inferno Cop, whichwas terrible, was terrible in a way that was pretty dang fun.
B: It isn’t that isekai isn’t capable of this sort of introspection and creativity: it just takes a lot of effort to achieve. Not to bring up Escaflowne again, but that show is hella surreal and introspective. But most never go there.
L: This is the best wheel we’ve done. No question.
B: We need to keep this wheel on hand for those tough days.
L: They all fit the theme, but they were each so different. My bugbear with a lot of anime is the lack of perspective or purpose—like when there’s no clear vision guiding the project. But each of these had a sharp perspective.
B: There were some weaker entries on the wheel, so maybe we just got lucky. But it was so nice to see shows where the creators were making an effort to do something, not just meeting a quota.
L: And choosing to be strange and thoughtful rather than just miserable.
B: It felt so much more respectful to the human spirit.
L: And that’s why these shows gave us so much joy.
Look, it is really easy to be snarky when times are hard, but Bridget and I sort of think that’s counterproductive. Why get bitter when you can get weird?
We would spin this wheel for kicks, and may do so in the future. It is encouraging to know that the most absurd anime are often the best ones, and absurdism could be the antidote to slop. When people get creative, their creations do not detract from the prickly themes of life. Instead, it cushions them in something unexpected and just soft and incongruous enough to make the heavy things easier to bear. A hole in your chest need not be a ragged, broken thing: it might be the perfect shelf where a small inhuman child can place a toy. A stubborn grandfather need not be a lost cause: he may be capable of change. And a boy who misses his brother might just learn that while a lot of what happens to him is no fault or choice of his own, that will not always be the case.
Bravo.[end-mark]
In This Article:
Inferno Cop (TRIGGER) Available on Youtube and Crunchyroll.
FLCL (Gainax/Production I.G) Available on Crunchyroll and Amazon Prime.
Kaiba (Madhouse) Available on Amazon Prime.
Yakitate!! Japan (Sunrise)Available on Netflix and Crunchyroll.
The post Anime Grab Bag: Absurdism Abounds! appeared first on Reactor.
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