Virtually Feminist? The pros, cons, and possibilities of virtual idols
Much like the wider idol industry, when it comes to virtual idols, the picture is mixed.
Much like the wider idol industry, when it comes to virtual idols, the picture is mixed.
What happens to shounen action heroes when they grow up? How should a hero and his friends live after getting everything they ever wanted? Boruto: Naruto Next Generations looks at the lives of its heroes as adults raising families, depicting them as falling along traditional gender lines.
The Promised Neverland begins as a sharply crafted horror story, but it soon reveals itself to be a sophisticated critique on restrictive social practices—including the hellishly limited roles expected of girls.
If you were to ask a layperson what an idol is, they’d likely think of the scandalous stories that come out of the industry. While these scandals shouldn’t be ignored, they often form the entirety of the discussion, ignoring idol content that doesn’t conform to such negative stereotypes and all the good that idols can do. To properly improve the industry, it’s just as important to promote the positive elements as it is to criticize the harmful ones.
While the original Aggretsuko shorts were limited in their scope and characterization, the longer episodes of the new series offer a multi-dimensional look into the life of the twenty-something office lady/red panda as she struggles with a daily clerical mountain at work, obnoxious co-workers, a troublesome love life, and her literal chauvinist pig of a boss, Ton. The whimsical setting of a corporate animal farm accentuates the dramatic nature of navigating life as a young working woman.
“Idols as hope” is an inspiring setup. That is, until it’s undercut by the notion of “idols as product.”
In November 2017, Nobuhiro Watsuki was arrested for the possession of child pornography. Shueisha responded by suspending publication of his Rurouni Kenshin sequel. But this isn’t the first time a Shonen JUMP author has been arrested for crimes involving underage girls.
How do you react when you find out one of the main creative forces behind something you love is, to not mince words, a completely shit person?
Looking at this romantic comedy by name and genre alone, we might expect it be about its geeky protagonist “recovering” from online games and becoming a “normal” adult. Instead, MMO Junkie gives us a story about finding happiness and fulfillment through online games, using their safe zone of community and anonymity as a foothold to regain emotional confidence.
In Gundam 0080, our protagonist watches paramedics pull a female pilot out of a wrecked Gundam surrounded by debris. He is shocked, pupils as dilated as can be. To him, this female pilot occupies a very different sphere: a domestic one. In fact, she’s his old babysitter.
Kaze Hikaru follows Sei, who disguises herself as a boy in order to become a warrior. Determined to prove she’s capable of a dangerous role that society said women were unfit to have, the fact that Sei both succeeds in this role and gains supportive allies implicitly conveys the narrative’s approval of her “unfeminine” lifestyle.
Many of Princess Principal’s stories discuss the sharp social and economic divisions present in its world. But it’s the upbeat and inspiring Episode 7 that offers the show’s most nuanced depiction of inequality to date, as our central cast must acknowledge their own privilege—and find a better way forward.
There’s no good reason not to pay every single interpreter for their work. There are, however, a couple of bad ones.
Nobody can deny that Bruno is a very smart prince. But what truly makes him special is his hyper-awareness of the invisible forces that have allowed him to devote so much time to the pursuit of knowledge.