Jonathan's Favorite 20 Anime (Pt.2)

Welcome back to my list of my twenty favorite anime. If you haven't read the first part from two weeks ago, you can find it here.

Now, let's finish this with my top ten.

10. Blood-C

The Blood franchise has always struggled to find some sort of relevance. The original movie received unexpected attention for its beautiful animation and fresh take on vampire mythos, but all follow ups have been littered with problems. Blood+ was a particularly disappointing mess. Most people also hate CLAMP's go at the franchise, Blood-C, but I've found myself sort of in love with the vile thing. Blood-C is easily the most violent, disgusting anime I've ever seen outside the 80s and 90s OVA scene, and it came from the group behind Card Captor Sakura. That's so fucking weird.

The brilliant thing Blood-C has going for it is its start and slow elevation. The first episode is a cutesy slice of life sort of thing that shows Saya's daily life as a shrine priestess and high school student, eventually ending with a fight with some sort of Buddha monster. However, that first fight is difficult to watch, as you can hear the crunching of bones whenever it grabs Saya, and she gets flung around in ways that feel way more visceral than you'd expect from an anime fight scene. Things only get worse as the show goes on, as people are killed by monsters in increasingly violent, sickening ways, and Saya starts to hear the voices of these man eaters. They're old and wise, and they seem to think of humanity as nothing of consequence. They're only interested in retribution for some supposed breaking of a contract, and Saya's daily life starts to spiral into full chaos and despair.

The series end is an orgy of death and destruction, and it is something to behold. Even more impressive is that a rather obvious twist is kept secret and unexpected for so long, mainly in how the series frames various events, distracting the viewer with horrific gore. I almost felt like vomiting watching this, something not even the most grotesque exploitation OVA has ever done to me. I can't help but love what Blood-C accomplished, and it's absolutely something that must be watched uncensored. Honestly, this may be one of the best things CLAMP ever had a hand in producing. It's something that could only come from them, pure visceral madness hidden behind a pretty painting. Well played.

9. Paranoia Agent

Blood-C is an experience, to be sure, but it's horror in only the most shocking sense. For something to get under your skin, you need master of the mindfuck Satoshi Kon. His one TV series, Paranoia Agent, is also a masterpiece in the psychological thriller genre. It's a series about a character designer who created a super cute mascot character that slowly crumbles under pressure from the world around her, only to be attacked by a mystery boy in roller skates, baseball cap, and a crooked golden bat. This enigma is Little Slugger, and it's not long before other unbalanced people soon find themselves as his next victims. Japan is absorbed in the chaos caused by this serial assaulter, and the reality of the situation starts to fall apart as we see all the events unfold from the perspective of the various victims. None of them are exactly what you would call sane.

Paranoia Agent switches from perspective to perspective on an episodic basis, while a larger story builds in each installment. There's all sorts of unsettling elements about, like that creepy mascot, or the strange old man who has a habit of appearing to give a riddle-like hint at the true events around the characters. Different characters also view the worlds in wildly different ways, and as their perfect realities start to break down, their true ugliness comes to light in eerie ways. There are also a few episodes before the final arc that explore some other stories surrounding Little Slugger, including a series of murders at an animation studio, and two men who keep trying to commit suicide while trying to make sure a suicidal girl with them doesn't. That suicide pact episode is amazing in so many ways, both because of how hilarious the gags can be and in how it caps off. The final arc itself is just a trip, with the true nature of the Little Slugger becoming clearer and clearer, making him far more terrifying a force.

It's a dark comedy that wraps itself in moments of horror, using absurd elements to hint at a far more real and disturbing reality. The opening hammers this home, as the characters laugh in the face of horrible tragedies and the upbeat song goes on and on about how the world is marching towards destruction. Kon went all out in his indulgences with this one, creating one of the most memorable and original series ever made. We'll probably never have anything like Paranoia Agent again with Kon's passing, and that's a true tragedy. There's a lot to learn from this one.

8. Eureka Seven AO

Me and the mech genre have never meshed as well as you'd think. Gundam really ruined the idea of giant robots for cheese and fun, though the genre had already started making a case for why that needed to stop. Evangelion was the nail in the coffin for the traditional mech anime (the throwbacks rarely light the world aflame), and countless shows have tried capturing Eva's mixture of human psychology, thematic depth, and giant robots killing monsters and/or other giant robots. Most fail. However, Bones had something with the Eureka Seven franchise, and its sequel series, AO, resonated with me.

It's a huge departure for the series, shifting things to a present day style Earth, but with E7 tech and concepts flooding and influencing its makeup and technology. Aoi, the supposed son of a major E7 lead, finds a mech similar to the Nirvash from the first series and uses it to defend his home island from monsters called Secrets. However, the series is really about Aoi's growth to maturity, and the story it tells shows the evolution of its huge cast via this running theme. It ends on a perfect thematic note on the necessity of youth, and it also gives us one of the best mech villains ever in the form of Truth, who's both complex and threatening, as he doesn't even need a mech to do damage.

What made the series jump so high on here, though, was how engaging it managed to be. The original series had some serious pacing problems, but AO manages to cut almost all the fat and moves along at a brisk, exciting pace. It kept me hooked, and I finished every single episode within just the span of a few scant days. It's funny, exciting, and spot on in its cultural commentary, plus manages quite a few marvels. Also, as someone who loved the original series, I adore how AO decided to pick up on the original's ending. It pissed a lot of people off, but I just saw it as the show being truly understanding instead of just idealistic.

7. Monster

Naoki Urasawa is a damn wonderful writer, and while many would say that 20th Century Boys is his master work (like me), Monster makes a strong case for itself. It's anime adaptation is simply incredible. It's the story of an innocent doctor who saves the life of a young boy that turns out to be a serial killer, and that boy returns years later to see the doctor. The doctor is Tenma, an idealist who wants to save as many lives as possible, while Johan is the titular monster and a terrifying being that can get people to do horrific things with just his sweet face and voice.

The story starts simply enough, with Tenma chasing after Johan to stop his killings, but the plot quickly twists and turns as more characters and factions are introduced, including a sect of nazis, Johan's sister Nina, a man with a split personality, Tenma's ex, an obsessed and almost inhuman investigator, and many, many more. The story juggles its mess of players almost effortlessly, all while taking its time to paint a disturbing picture of the childhood that produced Johan and how he's so much like Tenma deep down. Seemingly unimportant events change everything with time, and characters bounce into each other at the most unexpected times. Everything moves forward with tension so thick that you could sleep under it comfortably. Masayuki Kojima's touches really makes the series, with some powerful scenes that rely on very little going on to build atmosphere. In particular, the scene with the two out of country assassins talking to each other in their native language is remarkable in how much dread it builds.

Writing counts for a lot, and Monster is one of the best written series I've ever experienced. Everything is just so tight, and every single character has their own, strong story to tell. I can forgive the slow pacing and repetition that comes from reminding the audience that Tenma and Johan are similar (YES SHOW, I GET IT) simply because of how near perfect everything else is. Monster is what every thriller should thrive to be, endlessly engaging and never once sacrificing any sort of intelligence for thrills.

6. Eureka Seven

Now, I really liked AO, but there is no way it can ever reached the same level as its parent series. Eureka Seven is this weird mixture of 60s Americana, Japanese political commentary, old fashion mecha, and walkabout coming of age narrative, and it works far better than it should have any right to. It was the story of Renten Thurston, the son of a famous scientist who died years ago, and he desperately wanted to break away from his average life, slowly eroding his identity through the suffocating militaristic culture driving things around him. Enter Eureka, an obviously inhuman girl and mech pilot for Gekkostate, a rebellion group that distribute an airboarding magazine and share information on the government's wrongdoings. She crashes into his house, and Renten quickly falls in love and wants to go along with her to join Gekkostate, not realizing just how far out of his depth he really is.

It resonated with me on a deep level as a young teen, catching it on Adult Swim. It's grown on me even more since then. Now I understand the stories of the adults and older teen characters, and they're just as interesting as Renten's growth and his love story with Eureka. Tahoe, Holland, and Moondoggie have all grown on me in particular, especially Moondoggie's struggle with finding his own self-worth. The series is a mixture of generations, philosophies, and viewpoints, and it creates this rich, introspective soup disguised as an action series. It's really something that rewards rewatches, and it left me with an uplifting optimism when it finished (even AO's ending doesn't overturn that ending in my eyes, but that's a topic for another day).

While the series isn't too visually creative, its ideas are all fascinating and contextualized in a way that makes it easily understood, yet hides more from the surface. The terrorist attack episode is especially strong, probably the only even handed and effective examination of America's post 9/11 paranoia I've ever seen. Every single character left a mark on me, including the ones who never got their happy ending, and the series uses its long length to properly allow the emotional turmoil and depth of every situation to settle in. Very few long series ever earn their length but E7 found a balance.

5. Baccano!

This is easily one of the most entertaining shows I have ever seen. Ryogo Narita's plots and storytelling style are like very little else in this day and age. Not even filmmakers like Tarentino can quite match his manic, energy riddled stories. Baccano is an absolutely perfect example, the story of gangsters in the middle of conflicts in 1930, 1931, and 1932. Except not really. It's actually dozens of stories slamming into each other at a rapid fire pace, with people dying left and right, gags flying by with the bodies, and revelations popping up every which way ...all while the plot is completely told out of chronological order. It's almost like the entire series is cut of pieces of script but together, except moments manage to mix together moments from one story and mix it into another when you least expect it. There's method to the madness.

And what even is the story of something as deranged as Baccano? Well, the first is about a lazy mafia member going about town, meeting the girl of his dreams, and some no good deliquents causing problems. The second is about a train heist involving two rival groups. The third is about a young girl finding her brother from story one. Oh, and every story has at least one major character who is immortal and cannot be killed. Magic all around you and you don't even know it. The real story at play is that a bunch of immortals from centuries past are meeting up again by chance in these three stories, or are pulling out their own private plans, which somehow attracts the attention of mafia goons, monsters that live on the railways, crybaby bootleggers, idiot thieves that love playing dress-up, overly talkative mechanics, spoiled brats, reporters armed to the teeth, pyromanics, assassins, masochists, sadists, and just about every type of character under the rainbow.

Baccano moves like a cheetah on PCP, never giving a moment's rest as its huge, gigantic case constantly trade quips and beat the living crap out of each other. People have their faces punched into sausage, get run over, hit with bats, blown up, shot into swiss cheese, have their skin removed with the help of outside ground and a moving train, strangled, cut, slashed, hung, kicked, drowned, and all sorts of other crazy shit that's never fully explained. The moment the show starts, it grips you and doesn't let go until you've marathoned all twelve episodes, and then it never leaves your memory. It's just one hell of a ride.

4. The Melody of Oblivion & Yurikuma Arashi

I'm putting these two together because I love them for very similar reasons. While Yurikuma is a full on Ikuhara production, The Melody of Oblivion was made by other staff from Revolutionary Girl Utena and Ikuhara's influence can be felt throughout the entire project. However, a different set of creative minds makes Oblivion a very different beast compared to Ikuhara's works. What these two shows have in common besides technique is their exploration of human sexuality, gender politics, and challenging societal taboos build around expected gender relationships between the genders and the sexes. They're both insane in some form, but that's not what causes me to gravitate towards them.

I caught The Melody of Oblivion back in October, and I was hooked from episode one. It throws out so much bizarre imagery that it constantly straddles a line between hilariously absurd and unnervingly terrifying. It's impressive just how often the show balances out weird silliness and horrific symbolism, like matching the weird baby doll customers at the resort with human statues with horrified expressions and heavy shadows and reds covering everything when the Monster Union acts. All the human villains have pun based voice ticks, yet are still believable and capable as villains in their own right. The series silliness usually offsets with some horrific moment, and you never know when that moment is going to come.

More than that, the series does a brilliant job at moving its themes of classical heroism, the uncertainty of youth, and the nature of intimate relationships. The relationship between Bocca and Sayoko has unexpected depth once they finally make it official, as the two want something different from each other and fail to communicate as the pressures of the world get down on them. Kurofune is used in a really interesting way to show the problems with values of self-sacrifice and duty as it relates to connecting with others (which mirrors Bocca's arc for awhile), while Tone and Sky Blue get a loving and gentle relationship that contrasts well with the troubled male heroes. Coco takes it one step further, representing hedonistic and polyamorous relationships, and making a strong case for it. It's all really interesting and there's just so much to read into every single strange scene and image, making for a great heterosexual (and in Coco's case, bisexual) counterpoint to Ikuhara's work.

Yurikuma, on the other hand, is pure Ikuhara, with his use of repetition and obsession with lesbians intact. It's also one of the most beautiful and emotional works I've ever seen. I cried with joy at the end of this one, something no other work has ever managed to make me do in the anime medium. The story of Kureha and Ginko's love for one another and the hurdles that they're forced to jump because of the society that won't accept either of them really hit me in a place I didn't know I had, and Ikuhara's ability to fully examine that relationship and those around them makes it a true masterwork. Yurikuma is far, far more than just a simple love story, criticizing gender and sex politics from not just the patriarchy, but also from the queer community itself.

The series is subtle enough to make its endgame and message hidden until the last episode, but its commentary couldn't possibly be more blunt. The aggressive nature of the bears and uniformity of the herd perfectly show just how split and problematic the lesbian community can be to their own kind, while the odd placement of the court show the patriarchy as less a force of evil, and more a force of absurdity that causes more problems than it solves. The mixing in of religion was a really great idea as well, as it allows the series to further explore the need for validation and the power of ritual and belief, not to mention the subplot involving the bear afraid of change in those she loves. Ikuhara cuts through a lot of bullshit from the yuri genre and outside of it, and it all leads to a perfectly earned ending that promises so much more.

3. RE:_Hamatora

Yes, another very recent show, I know. But you fail to understand just how much I was taken aback by RE:_Hamatora. This isn't just a show, it's a bloody revelation. This is a masterpiece of a genre work, subverting every expectation perfectly, and even the ending manages to surprise in just how well the series keeps its cards close and poker face strong. It's the most perfect mystery thriller I have ever seen in my twenty-something years on this planet, and I'm not sure it's going to be topped in sheer mastery of craft anytime soon. Yes, I think RE:_Hamatora is that good. It blew its first season into the stratosphere. It's honestly one of the single best anime I have ever watched, and easily would have topped my personal list of the ten best in 2014 if it wasn't dragged down by the first season.

It's like some weird superhero neo-punk piece. It combines hilariously deadpan comedy (oh Hajime, you and your hamburgers!) and brutal, tragic punches to the gut almost back to back, and it paces itself perfectly. Every single piece of information is used perfectly, even very minor characters from the first season, and builds an amazing cast of villains with those pieces. Art, Shunichi, Moral, and Saikyo are all littered with far more depth than their simple arctypes would normally allow, and every last one of them manages some truly amazing moves on the heroes. Seeing Nice's Hamatora pushed to the breaking point is handled perfectly, matching the happy times with soul crushing revelations, even forcing them to fight each other and making that tired premise exciting and nail-biting again. Seiji Kishi pulled out all the stops for this series, using the wonderful score he was given with his own mastery of colors and framing to create oppressive, suffocating moods that give miles more life to every moment.

What really makes the series so amazing is the writing. Jun Kumagi put in everything he had with this one and made what will go down as his greatest work. Every character arc is perfectly paced and clashes with one another at perfectly chosen moments. The clues to the villains various goals and the very nature of the school that raised Nice and friends are paced out at a perfect, addictive frequency. Every single joke and gag, no matter how meta or referential it gets, hits spot on with masterful timing. Every single cast member is developed more than you'd ever expect, and minor characters are used perfectly to make the story feel far larger and add more chaos to the mix to keep things moving. RE:_Hamatora is lean, mean, and incredibly entertaining, and all through masterful craftsmanship by its staff. There is not one bad element anywhere in its production, and it's one of the few shows I can truly call nearly perfect. It lacks that personal touch most masterworks need, but it makes up for it in just sheer expertise. In many ways, that makes it even more impressive.

2. Code Geass

For a very long time, Code Geass was my favorite anime. I first saw it airing on Adult Swim, and I was hooked from the first episode. I had never seen anything quite like it before, and while it kind of has ruined the mech genre in the same way that Watchmen ruined superhero comics, that can't take away what the show proper manage to accomplish. Code Geass was a much needed breath of fresh air in a suffocating genre, replacing the somber and grim messages about the horrors of war and the failures of the adult world to the next generation, and replaced it all with those same messages (now through the context of an alternate history where a super powerful Britannia took over Japan) put along side manic pacing, a gigantic cast, ridiculous comedy, and the overly excited character designs of both CLAMP and Takahiro Kimura. What resulted was a series exploding with energy, replacing all forms of subtle story telling with hammy speeches, overly violent deaths, and a whole lot of crazy laughter.

And it was AMAZING.

Around when the series got a western physical release, a lot of mech anime had become too reserved for its own good among other releases. Code Geass whipped this trend in its ass, calling for a more ridiculous flavor that the giant robot field had been missing for far too long. Thing is, it went so far in how over the top it was, the mechs somehow became an after thought. The real reason to watch Code Geass is for the characters and the nutty roller coaster of a plot. Lelouch, Suzaku, Kallen and C.C all remain complex, layered characters in their own right, with loud personalities that made it near impossible to ignore them. Every minor character stood out, and most every single one of them had some sort of role to play in the grand story of revolution and political skullduggery. Code Geass aimed to be a global story, and succeeded with flying colors. Hell, it even learned to hide major plot points and developments by putting them right in front of the viewer, but focusing the scene on something else, leading too all sorts of hilarious reactions from viewers.

Perhaps what made the series stand out so much for me was the pacing. Code Geass had no slow down time at any point, even in character focused episodes that took the main cast out of the major conflicts for a bit. Something was always developing and building, and it was surprisingly easy to follow along with. If I was surprised or felt cheated, I only had to look at a past episode and realize that the answer was there the whole time, and possibly even given some emphasis. It was amazingly well structured, despite moving so fast that it was lapping around most every other show around. Code Geass managed to be truly addictive, something no other show has ever done quite so perfectly in my experience. I always wanted the next episode as soon as I finished the most recent, no matter if the episode was actually good or not. Blood Blockade Battlefront and The IDOLM@STER have come close to reaching the same level of must watch, but they've not quite reached the same heights.


With that entry done, before I show number one, a few honorable mentions.

Kill la Kill - Close to perfect in my eyes, but the second half needed a few more episodes to get everything paced right. What I loved most was the surprisingly relatable characters and humor, less the general insanity of the action.

Samurai Champloo - Watanabe's best work, as far as I'm concerned. Champloo's style was just so cool, from the smoothing soundtrack to the lively animation. It's just more in my flow than Bebop was.

Bleach - Nostalgia matters way more than you'd think. I mean, it's why I still love watching Bleach. Hell, I like some of the filler episodes. There's still a lot of creativity and care in the show, even in its lows. And, of course, Rukia is a major factor. Plus, dat music.

Ghost in the Shell: SAC - Stand Alone Complex was always that show that made me feel really smart for watching it. There were just so many cool ideas and great sci-fi at play.

Mobile Fighter G Gundam - I love it when Sunrise decides to be ridiculous. G Gundam is such stupid, manly action schlock and I love it so much. It's so earnest too.

Witch Craft Works - I just love how little this show cares about its own plot. WCW just jumps to weird moment to weird moment without batting an eye, using its magic premise to throw all the rules out the window. It's just so fun, and Kagari and Takamiya make for a cute, unorthodox lead couple.

Kannazuki no Miko - Not a particularly good show (especially that one part), but Chikane has remained one of my favorite yuri characters for years. If only the series had more talented creators.

Death Note - I always felt this series has gotten too much shit because of its popularity and the idiocy of its fanbase. At its heart, Death Note is just a fantastic thriller with a tight plot and a truly vile main character. It's a great take on the villain protagonist story.

Buso Renkin - This is one of the most shonen things ever made and that is why its wonderful. Buso Renkin fully embraces the stupidity of its peers, and the end result is a show of pure fun. Up until the big bad appears and the series becomes much darker, but even then, plenty of stupidity is left. I do have very passionate feelings about how the ending is terrible, though.

Full Metal Panic? FUMOFFU - This is why we need more comedy spin-offs. The second season of sci-fi military drama FMP decided to just let the characters take a break and have some fun, and some of the single funniest episodes I've ever seen of any show come from this one series.

Sakura Trick - There are so many lesbians! Why are their so many lesbians!? The brochure said there would only be a few lesbians!

Samurai Flamenco - This was almost number twenty-one. SamFlam is just so bonkers that it's hard not to appreciate it just a bit, but it loses its mind so often that it crosses into brilliant territory, awful animation be damned.

S-Cry-Ed - I'll always have a soft spot for this one. It's another Kimura/Sunrise joint, and it's a solid mix of ridiculous and dramatic, going more for dramatic. One of these days, I should really get around to finishing Gun X Sword...

The Book of Bantorra - Sometimes, being based on a light novel can be a strength, and this is one of those rare examples. Bantorra's plot is complex and winding, but the conclusion is just so perfect and satisfying (despite how cheesy Meseta's arc ends).

Tenjho Tenge - A good ecchi is almost paradox of a phrase, but Tenjho Tenge managed it, mainly through a ridiculously good flashback arc and strong character writing.

HaNaYaMaTa - What can I say, it's cute. It also handles drama and the coming of age story with surprising maturity, more like the story of an adult looking back on youth than a story from the eyes of youth. It's also damn pretty.

Inferno Cop - Remember that time Inferno cop shot a bullet and it bounced off the bad guy because he was immune to bullets but then it bounced off Inferno Cop because he was immune to bullets too and then the bad guy got shot by that same bullet and exploded?

Nerima Daikon Brothers - Suffers from repetition, but the first attempt at a musical anime series was done pretty damn well, and gets a lot of humor from taboo subjects. I mean, there's a reoccurring song about wanting to have sex with a panda. Oh that Nabeshin!

Onee-chan ga Kita! - How to make incest funny: Make the person who wants to be with their sibling out of their mind. How did this end up being good.

Puni Puni Pomey - "NOW THIS IS CULTURE!"

Okay, enough stalling! Number one!

And you all probably saw it coming by this point.

1. Gatchaman Crowds


2013 was a damn amazing year for anime, but Gatchaman Crowds just blew up everything upon release. Thing is, it took a few episodes for me to start realizing exactly what this show was, and once I figured it out, I couldn't stop watching. Crowds represents so many ideas and ideals I subscribe to, but it explores them and so much more with such general ease. It's the best show Tatsunoko has ever released, and considering their stable of works, that is not something I say lightly. It's simply brilliant, and I even went off on a twenty-two paragraph essay about why it's so brilliant once. To put it as simply as I can, Crowds is the modern, progressive counterpoint to its more militant, cold war era father series. Crowds, for all intents and purposes, is the original Gatchaman's exact opposite, but it has a great amount of respect for what came before it. It simply twists the message to meet the same end.

See, Crowds takes the issues of today the same way that the first Gatchaman did. Then, it was about war in a time of great uncertainty and struggles for land. It was about protecting what matters to you, stopping the enemy, and not abusing the power you had and becoming yet another evil in the process. In Crowds, there's no massive, world spanning conflict occurring, just normal people trying to make a living in a world that evolving with its technology. The internet is growing wildly in popularity, and the generations are starting to create gaps between each other. New problems are arising, and our greatest enemy isn't an external threat, but our own nature.

The villain of the series, Berg Katze, is an alien who manipulates the people of a world into destroying themselves, giving them power and letting nature take its course. However, a new member of the Earth stationed Gatchaman named Hajime becomes a thorn in Berg's side, as she has opposite ideals and manners to Berg's destructive tendencies. Berg lives for suffering and spreading pain (he's basically a computer troll that became alien Satan), while Hajime helps others work together to help each other and create works of art. The two are destruction and creation, and neither can truly be done away with each other. The series deals mainly with the two affecting different people in different ways, from Hajime helping her new friends overcome their personality flaws, to Berg helping hateful people gain the power to affect the world in the worst possible way.

The entire cast is varied and interesting. Rui is probably the first truly positive example of a transgender character I've seen from an anime that wasn't also treated slightly as a joke. She's independent, headstrong, and wants to save the world at all costs, but only until she's away from Berg and talking with Hajime does she start to figure out how the world should be saved. The Gatchaman here are all really likable and have fantastic arcs each, especially Sugane and Utsutsu. On top of that, there's a ton of variety in viewpoints, with Sugane as the willful hero, Jou as the old guard tough guy, O.D as the gay character and half-alien badass, Utsutsu as the sensitive and closed off wallflower, and Paiman as the comedic relief with a serious guilt complex and fears crippling him. Every single one of these characters changes, but only by becoming better versions of themselves and not changing their values or beliefs. That is absolutely central to the core message of Gatchaman Crowds.

At its heart, the series is telling the audience that there is nothing wrong with who you are. You are you, and all you should strive to be is a better version of you, not what others would want you to be. Hajime never demands anyone be different, they simply change on their own because they see something in her boundless optimism and love for the world and realize something about themselves. To change the world, to be a hero, to help others and make things better for everyone, we need only do what we can. Even the act as simple as making an origami animal can be enough to help someone. Art, creation, communication, and most of all, love for your fellow man, is all that you truly need to affect the world. You matter, and you can be a hero, even if you don't realize it.

That's a beautiful message, and it's one the superhero genre has needed for a long time. Crowds is not a series about fighting powerful villains and asserting your strength, it's about something far more powerful. We're all heroes, and never forget that.


Popular Posts