Review of [Oshi No Ko]

This review contains spoilers. Between the polarity of the reviews for Oshi no Ko and the unfathomably high rating on MAL during the writing of this piece, one inevitably ponders how this show really performs on the spectrum of today's anime cluster in terms of authenticity, imagination, and perhaps its primary marketing complement - a magnified, pragmatic articulation of the depraved Idol industry. My first interaction with it came in a discussion on Kaguya-sama, during which I noticed that the writer, Aka Akasaka, has a new manga inclined to be adapted. One thing that probably isn't immediately apparent for the beginner and intermediate anime audience isthat Akasaka isn't someone recognized for their writing technicalities. The international commercial success of Kaguya stemmed from its constant restructuring on the gimmicky, petty, unorthodox premise that perpetually explores its connection with the interrelated, compatible ideas one would expect in a romance between two clumsy kids who happened to be immensely successful in other areas of life, and exempted from its repetitive and over-hyperbolic nature, the fundamentals are solid - I would describe the experience akin to scrolling through short videos on social media, that despite the general linearity of the presentation, its clever, addictive nature prevails. Well, at least until season 3. As the chemistry between the main casts grew to be more transparent, Akasaka could no longer play it off as accidents and hence retracted the series' chaotic, aforementioned fundamentals. Instead employing most of its emphasis on characterization, and contemporary relationship issues, yet retaining what perhaps hinders its stature most of all, the shameful, singular dimensional, unamusing jokes that usually go **Shock face: "She doesn't get it at all!!!" or **Chibi Chika: "He's so bad at this!!!" or **Kaguya turns around with a yandere face, proceeds: "Kawaii/That's so cute !?!?"... Although superb voice acting soothed the potential disaster every episode, anyone remotely acquainted with successful comedy would find that jaw-dropping, horrendous attempt at making you laugh to be pitifully untried. Ensues is a compact sequence of choreography devoid of its original intentions, commonly found in any third-rate romance anime where the main characters are imposed challenges to expose their true selves to their partner, pivoting on psychological drama over the light-hearted success that it's built around. Ensues again, is a behavioral phenomenon that whenever Akasaka strays off his intended setup, the composure falls to substandard instantly, as will be noticed in Oshi no Ko. Therefore, I found seasons 1 and 2 of Kaguya to undoubtedly be of superior quality to its sequels. "Why are you blabbering on about your clearly subjective perspective on Kaguya in a review about Oshi no Ko?" you might ask, and that is because Oshi no Ko uncaringly, unapologetically, unflinchingly absorbed all the downfalls of the Kaguya series, with more to add.

The TLDR of my first paragraph came down to Akasaka's writer's block whenever he ventures into serious, deliberate storytelling, most conspicuously outside his comfort zone. Unfortunately, any first-person, un-sanitized, raw reflection of the darkness lurking within a particular industry could not carry a credible exposition without the usage of said serious, deliberate storytelling. Amongst the few exceptions worthy of clarification is Shoujo Shuumatsu Ryokou AKA Girl's Last Tour, where the fluffy daily adventures are but an ingenious façade contrasting the nihilistic, existential anguish echoing wildly about. However, even that which Tkmiz masterfully constructs is more of a mood, atmospheric fabrication rather than specific dealings with a chain of events. So, when I first learned about Oshi no Ko, I knew there were simply two plausible outcomes: an awkward, visibly artificial intertwining of thoughtfulness, ideas, and character design, or a simple train wrack possibly imitating the undoing of Kaguya and every other uninspiring trope present on the market. To disclaim, I'm not put off by the fetish reincarnation in the hour-long prequel, for countless high-level literature investigates humanity subjected by unforeseen, extreme circumstances, but what perplexes me is the un-capitalization on what possibly could be a convoluted scenario turned sociopath inspecting a discrepancy between one's physical and mental maturity, something similar to Mushoku Tensei except instead of another hikikomori recovery episode, Oshi no Ko could depict the ominous within men parallel to the very industry it closely reports.

Consequently, I am even more perplexed in episode 1 once the protagonist is declared to be none other than Lelouch 2.0, or John Wick 2.0, or Kaneki Ken 2.0, or more accessible whatever self-indulgent, undistinguished, monotonously edgy lady killer you can find in the bulk, repetition upon repetition stories in adjacence that is called Isekai, or whatever sub-genre it stimulates. I mean surely Akasaka can do better than this, right?? Okay, Shirogane may bear a Shonen fan's wet dream, he's a Goku who got into Stanford and slayed the baddest bitch in the school, but his struggles and insistence on altruism are heartfelt. Aqua, on the other hand, refuses to cooperate or tone himself down about his unnatural existence. Occasionally he's the almost 50-year-old who is romantically upset in episode 9 when Kana treats him coldly, occasionally he's the snarky teenager who put a few other teenagers in their place, other times he's Ayanokoji from Classroom of the Elite. The various persona he manifests are not mutually exclusive, yet no sub-contexts are appended to suggest any transition in between. As soon as episode 4 ended where much of its basis hedges around Aqua wooing the beauty, I knew none of its promise was going to materialize. And I was already looking sluggish when Akane had her hair dropping down, eyes shaded in typical "I'm sad" otaku culture fashion, taking notes in front of the director in episode 7, because there is no alternative dispatch other than the imminent fate which awaits her to be salvaged by Aqua. It's a merely altered universe in which Raku from Nisekoi collects his harem. Frankly, Kana supplies the complexity of characterization in Oshi no Ko, which incorporates periodic humorless jests drawn from Kaguya and equivalently unambitious, indiscreet, Demon Slayer molded flashbacks of her suffocated by the surroundings. Forget connotation, equivocation, and subtleness, symbolic and dialogue-induced characterization, one would have to commit substantial rationale leaps to solely be in harmony with certain mortifying developments, specifically during a 3-minute span, the wife of the producer responsible for B Komachi, Miyako, underwent a questionable transformation from someone willing to ruin Ai's life because she's sick of taking care of Ai’s children to an affectionate, loving soul with no background provided, who also happens to inhabit feasibly one of the most text-book like elucidations on the subject at hand whenever she goes off on a tangent, text for text explaining the darkness of the Idol industry in a Siri-reading-Wikipedia manner.

Speaking of extensions upon Oshi no Ko's plain, self-asserted undertone: "I am a very very deep show contemplating a manipulative, exploitative, capitalistic industry spiced with bleak narration". In effect, it divorced that commitment through its absence of any insightful, unobnoxious, unobvious takes. Upon finishing the show, I found myself unable to capture any novel relevance about the Idol life which normally a sensible, educated individual would not be aware of. Arrangements of online harassment, ferocious competition, prehensile acquisitive directors, style over substance displays which ironically personify this show, being as wide as the ocean and as shallow as a pond as it is - there is no unlearned knowledge to learn. Most of the time, one would find themself staring at the hysterical exhibit of Aqua’s tense personality in a seemingly happy-go-lucky screenplay, until his inner monologue explicitly states “This is a very bad, hard, cold, bad, very bad industry. But alas! Such is the Idol life” in a remarkably in-your-face, spoon-feeding convention without the slightest consideration for sophistication. Perhaps the baddest arrangement of the bad idol life is when Ai got stabbed, subsequently followed by her pseudo-emotional speech on how much she loves her fans, throwing all common sense outside the window and refusing to cogitate about the safety of her son, who is literally right beside her.

These days, the irritation assembled from witnessing innovative tries rupture is belittled by the behemoth of irritation derived on account of unaudacious, unashamed, expressionless works by the same author who arguably undeservingly took the anime world by storm at the beginning of 2019, the same author who naively believed their once formulaic opening to success, cinematic composition ascribed by little spikes of interest, was still visionary enough to function, bottled by an utterly alien thesis, unlike anything they have written about. Confined by its slapstick comedy and soulless personalities, one could easily envision the state of Oshi no Ko if it wasn’t gilded by its Horimiya blueprinted art and highly esteemed production. It would have been pale.