Spring brought us rebellious teens, simmering adult dramas, and existential robots.
How did we choose our recs?
Participating staff members can nominate up to three titles and can also co-sign other nominated shows. Rather than categorizing titles as “feminist-friendly” or “problematic,” they are simply listed in alphabetical order with relevant content warnings; doing otherwise ran the risk of folks seeing these staff recommendations as rubber stamps of unilateral “Feminist Approval,” which is something we try our hardest to avoid here.
The titles below are organized alphabetically. As a reminder, ongoing shows are NOT eligible for these lists. We’d rather wait until the series (or season) has finished up before recommending it to others, that way we can give you a more complete picture. This means we also leave out any unfinished split-cour shows, which we define as shows that air a second season less than a year after the first (often defined by announcing a sequel with an already-secured upcoming air date). That means Anne Shirley (ongoing) is ineligible.
Here’s what the team thought—let us know your picks in the comments!

Aharen-san wa Hakarenai – Season 2
Recommended by: Dee, Peter
What’s it about? After spending middle school friendless, Raido is determined to make some real connections in high school. He starts by making small talk with the girl who sits next to him, Aharen, only to get no response. At least, that’s how it seems at first—it turns out Aharen just speaks in a near-imperceptible whisper, and is just as eager as he is to overcome her awkward past and become pals.
Content considerations: A teacher who’s too invested in her students’ love lives; a couple short sketches about weight gain and dieting.
Aharen’s second season introduced a few new excellent characters and subplots—including a gyaru struggling with social anxiety and an explicitly bisexual character—but in most ways it carried on in the same footsteps of its first season. We didn’t want to leave it out, though, so we recommend giving our first recommendation a look.

Apocalypse Hotel
Recommended by: Alex, Chiaki, Dee, Peter, Tony
What’s it about? A virus sweeps the globe, infecting plants and making them spew toxic fumes–and all of humanity either leaves or dies. A hundred and fifty years later, a single humanoid robot remains functional in the Gingaro Hotel, leading a team of other robots in the daily upkeep of the hotel, waiting patiently for humanity’s return. It’s gonna happen any day, right?
Content considerations: Existential despair, global apocalypse, death and loss
With all that is happening right now, Apocalypse Hotel speaks to a lot of us. While we are—unfortunately—not a bunch of androids and tanuki aliens from space, we’re nevertheless survivors of a pandemic forced to keep going with the vague but essential hope that things will get better.
There’s certainly other shows that speak to the need to heal and grow, but A-Hotel pulls this off with a level of panache that showcases the production’s love for animation as well as the human spirit. There are beautifully contemplative moments in the series that speak to loss, whether it’s a central theme to a particular episode or a shocking but memorable moment told as an aside. Yachiyo and the ensemble at Gingaro are a testament to all the hardships we all can face.
And yet, at the same time the show is seamlessly rife with comedy and action—so seamless, you can’t help but accept its homage to Evangelion (music and all) toward the end of the series, because it has built a narrative so full of absurdities that the moment fits right in. It’s this beauty and skill in storytelling that lets the show even get away with doing a wedding cum funeral in an episode with a totally straight delivery, letting it hit the emotional lows even as we laugh at how ridiculous it all is.
That dichotomy is especially important today as we live in a world that is tacitly allowing a genocide to play out live on social media, and as a nation’s government decides to abandon its most vulnerable in order to fund concentration camps. Despite all that is going on, Apocalypse Hotel reminds us that it’s okay to find joy and thrive in it, even when everything else is awful.
It’s essential for us to stay silly.

The Apothecary Diaries — Season 2
Recommmended By: Caitlin, Dee, Lizzie
What’s it about? Maomao is tasked with helping Gyokuyou through her second pregnancy and continuing to offer care and education through her clinic. But political machinations are always simmering in the background, and Maomao has begun to wonder about Jinshi’s relationship to the emperor.
Content warnings: discussions and depictions of illness and medical procedures; non-consensual sex work; forced pregnancy (for political marriage purposes); threats and discussion of sexual assault and abuse; parental abuse; explicit discussion of pedophilia and child rape; sexual harassment
The Apothecary Diaries would have had to flub its second season pretty hard for it not to make the list after a phenomenal first season. With its angry-cat heroine Maomao solving medical mysteries, deliberate examination of inner court power dynamics, and thoughtful depictions of sex work, it was always a shoo-in for powerfully feminist themes. The second season ramps up the plot, bringing together all of the various threads, hints, and even throwaway lines from the first into one heartrending conclusion.
One of the greatest themes of this season is the harm caused by the cycle of abuse, even when the victim seems to brush it off. The memory of the previous emperor, whose preferences for prepubescent girls had been referred to offhand before, haunts the story like a ghost, as the women he raped when they were just children struggle to reconcile with the long-lasting effects alongside the next generation, who still feels their echoes. The empress dowager, who gave herself to him as a tool for her family’s power and barely survived giving birth at just ten years old, fears that her resentment both for his abuse and his abandonment when she grew from a child herself into a woman cursed him. Although the episodic stories still meander and go down narrative culs-de-sac, it is always engaging.
Meanwhile, Maomao’s friendship with the other girls in the inner court deepens. Her friendships with Xiaolan, Gyokuyo, and season newcomer Shisui are her greatest motivating factors throughout the season. While Jinshi is certainly important, the care and emphasis put into Maomao’s female friendships displays that this will never become just a romance, and keep Maomao feeling like a well-rounded person.
The one thing that may – and indeed, discussion with other fans has proven this to be true – put some people off is Maomao’s relationship with Jinshi. The two’s relationship has evolved considerably, going from him fixating on and teasing her to one of mutual respect and affection. In Jinshi’s eyes, that makes them equals; however, Maomao is still keenly aware of the enormous power difference between them. Jinshi has always had a blind spot toward just how much power he holds over people, as tends to be the case with the privileged; here, it comes to a head with his advances toward her despite her apparent disinterest. Actually, “advances” isn’t quite the right word; he explicitly tries to initiate sex without getting her consent first, ignoring her oblique attempts to deflect. While I have faith (and confirmation from people who read the novels) that the conversation about consent and power dynamics will continue, his entitlement may make the series too uncomfortable for some to continue. Adding to that is the way the anime frames these scenes as either wacky or sexy, but rarely with the gravity the situation deserves.
I’m being vague about Apothecary Diaries’ merits over its greatest, because watching the story unfold was such a treat and I want others to have a similar experience. If you’re particularly sensitive to depictions of sexual assault, some scenes may be hard going; otherwise, I cannot recommend this show enough, and I can’t wait for the next season.

Kowloon Generic Romance
Recommended By: Chiaki, Tony, Vrai
What’s it about? Kujirai Reiko works at a tiny real estate office in the Kowloon Walled City, a place that draws people in with its nostalgic allure. Kujirai’s only coworker is Kudo Hajime, who she secretly nurses feelings for. Sometimes it seems he feels the same…but they seem to be connected by a past she can’t remember.
Content Warning: Fan service (episode 1), nonconsensual kissing (episodes 1-2); depictions of dysphoria, intersexism, dementia, suicide, parental abuse
What if a fantasy girlfriend started noticing the limitations of her reality? Painting in broad strokes, that is the place where Reiko’s story begins: as a replacement for a woman she’s never met, with no past to call her own and a man who seems to return her feelings but also holds her at arm’s length. Reiko’s journey to define herself as an individual would be enough to recommend this to AniFem readers on its own, but the series is much more ambitious than that.
“Nostalgia” is a watchword of the story, from its setting (as Chiaki put into historical context) on up. It’s a trap that freezes characters in time, slowly poisoning them; but it’s also something that can be transformed and made part of one’s journey to becoming a stronger person. This is especially poignant when Kowloon is such a thoroughly queer story. Pharmaceutical company heir Hebinuma Miyuki’s first appearance comes with overtones of predatory queerness, but they wash away by that episode’s end to reveal a complicated gay intersex man who’s dealing with his own status as a replacement. His boyfriend Gwen is a permanent outsider in his partner’s wealthy surroundings. Sunny Xiaohei loves lolita fashion but no longer feels allowed to enjoy it after going through puberty. Even Reiko’s friend Yaomay, who isn’t textually queer (but I sure am reading her as a lesbian), resonates with the euphoria she finds through body modification. Kowloon is a phantom, but it’s also a place where outsiders can find each other.
It’s also just nice to have a story almost entirely populated by adults, and a narrative sensibility to match. The mystery plot simmers along with a minimum of hand-holding; characters not only talk about their feelings but have sex long before the final credits roll; and it’s melancholy while but also ultimately hopeful. It’s the kind of anime I dearly wish we had more of, and I’m looking forward to both the conclusion of the manga and whatever Mayuzuki Jun makes next.
—Vrai

Maebashi Witches
Recommended By: Cy, Dee, Vrai
What’s it about? Welcome to Maebashi City, Gunma, home to Akagi Yuina. Life is pretty normal until one day, a mysterious frog named Keroppe shows up and asks her if she wants to become a witch, launching her into a dream come true as she finds her magical groove and helps improve the lives of everyone in her city.
Content Warning: depictions of fatphobia, grooming, bullying
Maebashi Witches is a show of modest ambitions. Its character designs and day-glo aesthetic don’t look all that unique on the poster, which caused a lot of people to pass it by; and the witches’ magic is often as simple as a word of encouragement. But that’s what ended up winning my heart. While its idol element seems tacked on in concept, its musical numbers are extremely creative and have a lot of fun creating short thematic music videos for their cases of the week. And much as I love grand stories about girls tearing down the system, it would risk feeling simplistic and even insulting with the very grounded topics Maebashi touches on.
“You might not be able to change this unjust thing by yourself,” the show says. “But you know what you can do…” And its answers are actionable: validate that your friend didn’t deserve creepy DMs from the influencer she likes; reassure another that it’s okay to ask for help; meet your loved ones where they are, and build a kinder and more progressive world one day at a time. Not every subject gets the same depth of exploration—Kyoka’s frustration with her gender identity are nodded toward but not really the subject of her story, and the same is true of Mai’s possible queerness—but the writing is tender and thoughtful throughout, particularly when covering fatphobia and the stresses faced by young carers. It’s a heartfelt, wonderful little show that I can easily recommend sharing with the tweens in your life.
—Vrai

Rock is a Lady’s Modesty
Recommended by: Alex, Dee, Vrai
What’s it about? After her mother marries into the wealthy Suzunomiya family, Lilisa throws herself into attaining a perfect ladylike image as a transfer student to Oushin Girls’ Academy. Her goal is to attain the title of “Noble Maiden,” which will guarantee her connections and clout as an adult. The only problem is the school’s other idol, Kurogane Otoha…a secret drummer who instantly pegs Lilisa as a former very unladylike guitarist.
Content considerations: fan service jokes (mostly isolated to one character), emotionally neglectful and/or manipulative parents
What does it mean to be a lady? Being sweet-natured and selfless? Obedient and elegant? Cutting off as many pieces of yourself as possible until you form the shape that society demands, all in the name of upkeeping tradition? RockMod raises a middle finger to the entire rotten business. The result is a very satisfying, scathing dark comedy—sometimes swinging into sincere and heartfelt drama—about the restrictive confines of class, gender roles, and gender presentation, and how freeing it can be to break the bars of that cage and express yourself.
Lilisa is a fantastic lead whose feral rage and raw passion forms the core of the show. It’s both entertaining and heartbreaking watching her carefully perform being “ladylike,” and cathartic watching her let loose with her growing band. While the girls butt heads initially, they learn to knit their eccentricities together and find the ways that they match each other’s freak, as it were; giving us a cast of young women who are all navigating the rigid expectations placed on them in different but complimentary ways.
Unfortunately, the series’ sense of humour sometimes undercuts its own themes. Case in point: the recurring joke that “girl prince” type character Tina secretly has a huge bust which she usually hides with shapewear. It’s not funny the first time, and it’s not funny all the times it repeats. Making Tina’s body the butt of the joke undermines the genuinely interesting aspects of her character, and distracts from her contribution to the series’ overall themes about identity, masking, and how children cram themselves into roles they don’t fit to please their parents and peers. I imagine the frequent use of BDSM imagery might not hit for everyone, given that the cast are teenagers, but it’s definitely part and parcel of how the show frames its music as queer communication between its leads.
Still, with those caveats, the show overall does rock. There’s a great mix of comedy and genuine tension, Lilisa is great, and the jam sessions and band performances exude such energy that they really take you along for the ride. It packs a punch of social commentary while also being wild fun.
–Alex

The Too-Perfect Saint: Tossed Aside by My Fiancé, Now in Another Kingdom
Recommended by: Dee, Lizzie
What’s it about? Philia Adenauer is considered the greatest saint of all time, yet she’s utterly despised by her parents and her fiancé. If that wasn’t insulting enough, the townspeople don’t appreciate her hard work because she isn’t as charming as her beloved little sister, Mia. Ultimately, Philia is sold off to a neighboring country in exchange for money and resources. This turns out to be the best thing that has ever happened to her, since she’s welcomed warmly in her new home.
Content Warning: parental abuse
I haven’t read the manga, but it’s obvious the anime rushed through the source material. Everything about this series felt quick and it was difficult to feel attached to most of the characters. It’s understandable why some of the characters needed to be direct with Philia since she wasn’t used to receiving praise and affection, but it felt too heavy-handed and forced. Perhaps if the series had more episodes, it could’ve slowly built up all of Philia’s new relationships in a way that felt more natural. So, why am I recommending this series? Despite its flaws, the true star of the show is Philia’s sister (cousin), Mia.
Mia could’ve easily been a wicked sister archetype commonly seen in historical and fantasy stories, but not only does she love her sister deeply, but she immediately felt immense hatred towards everyone that sold her sister off to a neighboring kingdom. The whole incident forced Mia to acknowledge her own complicity to the abuse her parents inflicted on Philia and was disgusted at everyone’s perception of her as being more “docile” than Philia. What’s great about the series is that it critiques the idea that being “soft” and “feminine” makes a woman inherently “weak.” Everyone made the mistake to assume that just because Mia is more jovial and sociable that she’ll just quietly follow orders and obey the men around her.
Mia doesn’t hesitate to exploit the preconceived notions about her in order to manipulate the second prince, Julius, and secretly plot his overthrow with the support of politicians that wanted to get rid of him. As mentioned before, nothing about this show was subtle, but it definitely hammered in the point that toxic masculinity is especially deadly when wielded by someone with power. Julius consistently reminds Mia to know her place as a “woman” and that only “men” can make important decisions about politics. Overall, Mia’s frustration with the people around her was valid since they were committed to destroying the kingdom and she hated herself for once believing in them (like her parents). She was even willing to die on the battlefield because she didn’t believe she deserved to be happy and hoped her sister found happiness with the new people in her life.
The sisterly love between Philia and Mia was the best part of the series and honestly a breath of fresh air in a sea of countless sisters competing against each other in historical fantasy stories.
That alone makes this show worth recommending.
– Lizzie





Comments are open! Please read our comments policy before joining the conversation and contact us if you have any problems.