My introduction to Hide and Seek went thusly: 70’s shoujo manga focusing on children who meet horrible ends. I heard “70’s” and “children who meet horrible ends” and immediately thought of Ringing Bell, which (cold take, I know, but) to this day is still my gold standard of old-timey animanga horror stories, rich in both its antiquity and unhinged ability to plunge into the darker side of children’s fables. Now, “happy to report” is far from the most appropriate response when it comes to reading such narratives. Perhaps chillfully delighted? Horribly amused? Twistedly joyful? Either way you want to look at it, the bottom line is that Hide and Seek provided a similar thrill I got out of Ringing Bell, and for that, I applaud it. This is a merciless story penned by a long-forgotten mangaka, resurrected to provide a chilling venture into shoujo manga’s past. Given that you have the heart and stomach for it all, of course.

Hide and Seek is the seventh volume of Smudge, an ongoing anthology of vintage horror manga collected and reprinted by the publishing company Living the Line. Naono Yoshiko’s manga serves as an anthology within an anthology; a trove of short stories she penned for various shoujo magazines in the early 70’s. And it stands as a calculated blend of traditional ghost stories and horrifying odes to the Kafkaesque. Stories involve everything from sibling rivalry gone horribly wrong, to a haunted house and a headless demon, to schoolyard gossip and diaries, and to a reimagining of the tale of Orochi.

Connecting all of them is the recurring theme of making a childhood mistake so severe and traumatic that it bars one from experiencing happiness ever again. Children who thought that the worst thing to happen to them was, say, embarrassment brought on by grandma’s overalls, or not being born into the right family, lead to drownings, beheadings, disappearances, and so on. Naturally, all of Yoshiko’s stories end on downer notes, made even darker by the sudden, dramatic last-second twists. Some are a bit too open-ended and quick of a rug pull—I still don’t know what to make of the endings of “Rainy Days,” or the eponymous “Hide and Seek.” Might just be me, though.

The ghost stories read like standard stuff. Not to discredit them (I still like them!), but if you’ve read even a single ghost story, then you already know that Yoshiko’s more or less on the note of “and they were never heard from again.” The story of the headless Lady Otsuta is the best instance of this; a tale of survival horror where two young girls have to defend themselves against an evil spirit who stalks them at night. It lacks the same twisted morality as a lot of other Hide and Seek‘s stories do, since our two leading lasses do not sin. It is, however, bleak and well-paced enough to remain interesting enough to keep our attention.

The Kafkaesque stories have more originality to them. Barred from anything supernatural means that the situations and the characters are handled with an everydayness that feels more real and hits harder as a result. Really, they almost feel like they could happen to you.

Here’s what I mean. My favorite story of the bunch (and massive spoilers, by the way) is titled “Our First Family Trip.” You can tell right away that the flowery title is done in jest; no family would actually want to keep this in the memory log. The story involves the young girl Sachiko, who is about to embark on a big vacation that her family can barely afford. Right as she’s leaving for the ferry to Kyushu, Sachiko goes through the very real fear any paranoiac will have: she forgot to turn everything off in the house. Specifically, her iron, which threatens to burn her house down. Sachiko can’t tell her parents what happened, otherwise they’d have to turn back home and cancel the trip. She is left with a look of wide-eyed terror that looks like Edvard Munch’s Scream for a panel (the manga wisely uses this image on the cover of the book). A seemingly wise old man tries to reassure her by saying that praying will solve Sachiko’s problems, since praying solves his. Sachiko is left relieved, thinking that God will protect her and the house. But unbeknownst to her, the old man doesn’t pray to God; he prays to the whiskey bottle he constantly sneaks sips of. The story ends with Sachiko’s house burned to the ground, juxtaposed with a panel of a relieved Sachiko enjoying her vacation with her family, completely oblivious to the scorched reality that awaits her. It begs the question of what is worse: immediately knowing your house might burn down, or delaying that revelation in exchange for short-term denial and fleeting joy? This story is even more impactful and horrifying when you have family on vacation. Which I did at the time of writing this review. No, really.

Yoshiko’s art here isn’t groundbreaking, but it is still very interesting. Characters’ mortified faces, bleak environments, and psychotically, spirally speed lines make for a horror show art style. In an afterword essay included at the end, Yoshiko writes that despite her early love of shoujo, she eventually became “turned off by the big starry eyes and saccharine stories.” Her manga’s art style, combined with some extra and more detailed (if not also violent, creepy, and sexual) illustrations included in her afterword essays, can be interpreted as a direct contrast to the flowery shoujo she read during her childhood. Is it no surprise that her first work, Experiment, was published in the same Garo magazine that housed the ultraviolent The Legend of Kamui?

Victims of childhood traumas have stories to tell that they would very much rather not. Hide and Seek doesn’t shy away from telling those dark stories. It goes to the very end with them. This is a manga so unabashed in its darkness, so shocking and dramatic in its presentation, that you can’t help but be in awe over the sense of fear and depression it leaves.

A day after announcing Yoshitaka Amano‘s newest anime project, ZAN, the “Masters of Anime: Exploring Japanese Animation Production” panel gathered the legends working on the series. Unfortunately, Moriyasu Taniguchi couldn’t make it to the panel due to an injury. Instead, the panel featured film producer Hiroaki Ikegami, Armored Trooper Votoms creator Ryōsuke Takahashi, producer Tatsuyoshi Matsumoto, and Mobile Suit Gundam 0083: Stardust Memory mechanical director Tōru Yoshida.

Diving into a brief history of the “Robot Revolution,” the panel took a broad look at anime in the past, present, and future. Given the panelists’ résumés, the discussion began with a brief conversation about Armored Trooper Votoms and Fang of the Sun Dougram. Right off the bat, Takahashi shared his admiration for Gundam, which led to Dougram. One of the challenges was making “sweaty military uniforms look cool” as there weren’t many examples. “I think I was able to create my own uniqueness to it.”

Yoshida then added some behind-the-scenes stories about him and Takahashi, dating back to when he made his “Robot Works” debut with Dougram. For a while, he only drew what he was told to do for Dougram, which is why he wanted to focus on Blue Comet SPT Layzner.

“I would help with the mecha designs, and when it came time for the draft of the first episode, we talked about the movement.” Since there weren’t many examples, it was challenging to imagine how pieces such as the wings would move. “When I was making VOTOMS, I was 22 and had a lot of creative freedom,” Yoshida said. He then described his back-and-forth experiences between the strict expectations and artistic flexibility.

Matsumoto described Yoshida and Takahashi’s lasting influence on Japanese animation. He complimented Takahashi’s eye, saying the “robots were flushed with realism,” which greatly impacted him as a teenager. Dougram and VOTOMS inspired young animators who wanted to join Taniguchi’s company, Anime R.

These “students” of Taniguchi include: Hiroyuki Okiura (Ghost in the Shell), Kazuchika Kise (Patlabor), Takahiro Kimura (Code Geass), Kazuaki Mōri (Pokémon), Masahide Yanagisawa (Rurouni Kenshin), Seichi Nakatani (Gundam), and Asako Nishida (Love Live! School idol project).

“The fact that they were all under Taniguchi-san is unknown to much of the U.S. and Europe. But it’s a popular fact in Japan,” Matsumoto said.

He stressed the impact that the panelists and Taniguchi had on shaping the current anime landscape. “Shinya Ōhira of Studio Ghibli is also a fan of Anime R‘s works, Layzner and VOTOMS.”

Takahashi took a moment to reflect on anime’s past with his time alongside Osamu Tezuka. During the intense work schedules of the “Golden Age” of anime in the 1980s, they would pull all-nighters and work so closely that “it wasn’t so much work but forced labor,” Takahashi said with a smile. Tezuka was at the forefront of the 30-minute animation revolution in Japan, and Takahashi shared that the legend wasn’t the kind to “hold your hand.” Described as a “genius but a weirdo,” the director claimed Tezuka would be a rarity in the U.S. as he had no interest in accumulating wealth.

However, Takahashi warned of working oneself into an early grave. “[Tezuka, Shōtarō Ishinomori, and Fujiko Fujio] passed away at the age of 60, and I’m 83 now. If you work too much, you’re going to pass early, so be careful.”

As for the present, Takahashi commented that the production environment for Japanese anime hasn’t changed compared to the past. When Astro Boy aired in 1963, there were about four animated series by the end of that year. Afterward, it would expand exponentially to about 370 anime series broadcasting on Japanese TV.

“But the staff members working on anime haven’t increased. There are still only around 10,000 animators.” Even though Japan’s population has increased since the 1960s, Takahashi stressed the number of animation staff hasn’t changed.

So why is the team behind these legendary mecha anime series working on ZAN?

“80% are average animators and probably only 5% are at the top. This has been the case for the last 60 years in Japan.”

At the same time, digitalization has made certain processes more efficient and faster. Yet, the animation veteran said animators are “spending just the same amount of time” drawing. “With ZAN, we’re going back to making everything by hand and showing what we can create from there.”

Yoshida added that it’s a matter of scheduling and time constraints. “When I was in my 30s, I was working on 14 different works simultaneously. Right now, I’m working on eight at the same time.” He emphasized that there simply is not enough time. “In terms of those who draw, regardless of whether you draw traditionally or digitally, you’ll have to draw for multiple projects at the same time.”

Since the panel was running out of time, the speakers each gave their thoughts on the future of the anime industry. Takahashi teaches animation at a college in Osaka and sees plenty of students interested in animation. However, they hesitate to pursue it as a career because it’s a tough job.

“There’s a Japanese proverb that says you’ll become better at it the more you love it. Love it, then you can pursue it.”

From an artist’s perspective, Yoshida sees more 3D prospects. “I want someone somewhere to focus on the drawing, whether it’s hand drawing or digital.” He believes in simply putting into paper what’s inside one’s head, no matter the medium.

Matsumoto believes the Golden Age of Japanese animation was around 1985-1992, with the 1988 movie Akira as a defining work. “I don’t think that’s something that could be recreated right now.” In his eyes, the all-star animators, who were in their 20s, are now in their 40s and 50s, at the head of the animation world. Matsumoto, like Yoshida, works on multiple titles at once and is thankful they were able to complete ZAN.

“ZAN was finished when I was on the airplane at 5 AM. Thank goodness, or else I wouldn’t have made it here,” he laughed.

He confessed he doesn’t “have the capacity” to think about the future of the anime industry right now. “I’m focusing on the last time to showcase the Golden Age of Anime, where everyone who worked with Taniguchi-san and his students came together to work on this project.” Matsumoto interrupted himself to add that Cowboy Bebop‘s Takahiro Komori is the youngest member of this team.

“This is potentially the last opportunity to share the era of the Golden Age of Anime. I concentrated on it as the last opportunity. I’m looking forward to this moment right now.”

Story follows romance between wealthy AI expert, free-spirited vocalist of indie band

The romance webtoon and web novel series Boss’s Blatant Taste is set to receive a live-action series adaptation, with actors Sung Hoon and Se-young Oh currently in talks to lead the series.

Based on the web novel by Sikeukeu, Boss’s Blatant Taste follows Do-hyuk Kwon, a wealthy AI expert who trusts only data, as he becomes entangled with Eun-chae Lee, a free-spirited vocalist of an indie band, while searching for the mysterious woman featured on an indie album.

Sung Hoon has been offered the role of Kwon, while Se-young Oh is considering the role of Lee. If confirmed, the project would mark Sung Hoon’s first leading role in a long-form romance drama in three years.

Broadcast details have not yet been announced, though production is underway with a target premiere later this year.

Currently, English versions of both the web novel and webtoon are not available. Sikeukeu’s My Boss’s Perfect Wedding webtoon had an English release on Pocket Comics before Pocket Comics shut down last October.

Source: IS Plus (Ju-in Lee)