Zenshu, in Japanese, is shorthand within animation production for a complete redraw of a cut of animation. This scenario is requested at the very start of this anime’s opening episode, when an inexperienced animator hands a completed cut to our protagonist anime director for final check, only to be swiftly rejected. The slightest questioning of the decision causes the burnt-out and overworked Natsuko Hirose, already underwater from writers block and frustration trying to follow up her hit series, to coldly dismiss the animator.
No one can be trusted but her, or perhaps she feels failure should rest entirely on her shoulders.
MAPPA’s original anime has been one of the standouts of an otherwise-slumbering Winter anime season, a rare original work for a studio known just as much for recruiting talented animators to work on the biggest adaptations in the industry as they are for chronically-poor working conditions. We meet Natsuko as she struggles to find the path forwards for her next project. Taking a food break eating a company-provided bender, she suddenly falls ill eating expired shellfish and finds herself isekai'd into the world of her childhood favorite dark fantasy anime film.
While far from alone in poor industry conditions, for a company with an outsized reputation even in the context of the low-paying anime industry to create an original anime about an animator facing issues of overwork is somewhat galling. At least, it would be if the topic was explored as part of this isekai story, a decision that is so far the show’s greatest asset and flaw.
As the isekai genre has gone from an interesting novelty to a plague infecting half of the TV anime of any given season, few series in the genre are successfully able to leave audiences thinking about their story after the credits stop rolling. Often this is by design. Many isekai anime are adaptations of popular light novels or derive from online publishing platforms like Shousetsuka ni Narou whose recommendation systems uplift wish-fulfillment stories with relatable protagonists. They’re power fantasies, where precise otaku knowledge is an asset for victory and power they may lack in real life.
While the genre is now mature enough to evolve beyond this to more varied and at-times abstract concepts, few truly challenge the audience to consider events beyond a surface level, or force the viewer to face experiences from a new perspective. Fewer consider why a new world could be appealing beyond wish fulfillment, or the way it could provide a much-needed new perspective on their past life.
At its best, Zenshu channels its appreciation for animation with the decades-long experience of its talented creative staff like Mitsuki Yamazaki and Kimiko Ueno. The world of Tale of Perishing, Natsuko’s childhood anime, features plentiful characters referencing stories from the 1980s and 1990s within its dark fantasy setting, such as the anthropomorphic Unio, a reference to Osamu Tezuka’s Unico who had their own darker turn with their own film.
As Natsuko is inspired to protect these characters she loves, giving her the ability to rewrite the tragedy they faced in the film and give them new lives through her artistic talent, she draws creatures referencing the Macross franchise, Nausicaa and the Valley of the Wind, and even Uta no Prince-sama. The in-universe context is that these stories were the stepping stones of her career to this point, merging the childhood story she loved with the work that followed to create something new. In essence, it’s a love letter to the stories we create, and the inspirational power of animation and art to drive us to pastures new.
In this respect, it’s great! Rather than solely focusing on the classics of the medium, it’s nice to see non-action and male-skewed series like Prince-sama represented as being the important tentpole they’re often overlooked or derided for. No matter what they are, Natsuko wouldn’t be there without them. Forcing audiences to think about even the oft-forgotten stories that inspired us as we grew up, the work that allowed us to see media and the world differently, is a great thing, and Zenshu should be applauded for this.
But it’s a double-edged sword. Even five episodes into the series, Zenshu has yet to address the underlying reasons for Natsuko’s sudden journey to her childhood. It alludes to it. In the latest episode, her cockiness for being able to use her mighty artistry to defeat any enemy without assistance is exposed as she is swiftly defeated by a new foe. It shows she can’t work alone, because anime requires more than just an idea to succeed. On the whole, though, there are far more references to the medium than the inner conflicts that led us to this point.
The way the show brings anime production into the DNA of the show’s visuals by dissolving Natsuko’s creations into key frames is a stylistic choice I applaud. The show is beautiful to watch. But simply referencing that Natsuko was an animator doesn’t mean that Zenshu tackles her struggles.
That may come before the finale, but with half the show failing to even allude to this it’s hard not to feel that the anime, like its protagonist, is running away from these issues through fantasy and homage, rather than face it earnestly.
Which is where MAPPA’s place at the heart of the production once again feels relevant to mention. Conflicts in the series are an attempt at abstracting anime production hurdles, but the failures and lessons so far pin the blame solely on a single animator’s unwillingness to change. It can be a factor, but in this context feels like a convenient scapegoat for a broader company’s failure, rather than showcasing how a team succeeds and fails together. How an overstretched production and overbearing studio can place too much pressure on one person just as much as one person can fail to embrace a team’s support.
Zenshu is a fascinating take on the isekai formula and easily one of the best anime this season. But it’s also a story held back by an unwillingness to be honest with the anime industry’s broader need to change what and how it produces new shows that currently sits uncomfortably unaddressed. Instead we retreat to the history of anime rather than address the present. No less free from structural problems, but painted in rose-tinted glasses, and at least somewhat alleviated by having fewer shows produced at one time.
Zenshu is a good anime. Whether it can be honest with itself will answer the question of if it can be a truly great one.
