The Devil is a Part-Timer! has been a fan favorite ever since it first aired in the spring of 2013. And that’s no surprise! There’s something inherently hilarious about watching a demon lord and his general adjust to life in modern Tokyo, where everyone—even demon lords—have to work to pay their rent. The main characters may have been ripped straight out of a fantasy show, but their struggles are still oddly relatable to any working young adult.
The first three episodes or so are the most memorable in the anime, full of witty jokes and charming character moments. But there’s more to The Devil is a Part-Timer! than just “fish out of water” humor. In its more serious moments, the anime uses its “normal” characters to remind the audience that, even in a world bereft of demons and magic, earth-shaking chaos lie just around the corner.
Note: Spoilers for the anime’s first arc (episodes 1-5) below.
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I’ve been having interesting conversations with various Twitter folk lately about the kind of anime-related criticism they would like to read. One of the main things people said they wanted to see was more writing about the nitty gritties of the animation craft and how it impacts the viewer’s experience (obligatory reference here to the excellent Sakuga Blog, a new animation blog on the scene which all of you should check out pronto). For what it’s worth, I happen to agree with this assessment, but I’m not terribly educated about animation theory, and I don’t think that many anime fans are.
And this is okay! I don’t think you need to know theory to love and appreciate anime. But what if you want to convey to others how much you appreciate the animation craft, beyond just “the animation looked cool!” or “the voice acting was good!”? I think that most of us are aware that the visuals and sound impact the way we perceive the characters and narrative, but we lack the vocabulary to describe what exactly is going on. This can be frustrating when we’re trying to explain why we like (or don’t like) something about a work of art to another person.
Also, for critics who take themselves and their opinions seriously, this sort of thing should matter a lot. Pure formalism may not be a highly-regarded form of media criticism these days, but it does lay the important groundwork for any lens of analysis. So let’s not disregard it out of hand.
Since I’m a beginner too when it comes to animation theory, I figure we can learn about these things together. This post is about the basics of scene composition. I drew most of the information here from the revised edition Art in Motion: Animation Aesthetics by Maureen Furniss, which I think is a really well-written and accessible guide to the main issues in the field. I also encourage anyone with an education in animation theory to do us all a favour and leave a comment and/or some links to further reading. Your knowledge and insight would be very much appreciated!
(Note: While this post draws on general theories about animation, the examples I use are all from Japanese anime. While I’d love to discuss non-Japanese animation too, that’s a topic for other posts.)
Because Froggy is away in the Philippines, twelve guest writers will be blogging about anime and/or Christmas. Today’s guest writer is Ashiya Shirou from Hataraku Maou-sama!, a former demon general who currently works as a house husband in Tokyo.
As a whole, Spring 2013 was a nod towards the old school. None of the titles captured the best of their respective genres – this will probably be remembered mostly as a spring season of mediocrity across the board – but the pleasant throwbacks to older times made each series pretty worthwhile for the hardcore anime fan. As usual, we got a lot of variety to pick from.