I fully understand why someone may enjoy Revue Starlight. And I can't in all honesty call the show outright bad... but the score reflects my personal enjoyment, and so it is the way it is. This revue (yeah I fucking did that) will be focused mainly on the writing aspect of the show, as I think the other aspects have already been talked about to death, and frankly I don't think I have anything to add. I don't hold that high value for the visuals or the direction, in fact I think both fall flat in many cases, but in order to properly dissect each of those I'd have to clip and display many parts of the show, which would incidentally make this no longer a spoiler-free review, while also making me do a ton of work that I'm not interested in doing. I'm a wannabe writer, not an artist or an encoding junkie. But anyway.

Revue Starlight is very appealing to certain demographics, especially to moe or idol lovers, and while it does not directly fit those either category I'd say it shares enough elements to call it "adjacent" to them. The structure of the show, the comedy, the themes, the visual aesthetic, and everything under the sun. I'd be very hard-pressed to find fans of Revue Starlight who aren't already fans of either category, or fans of either category who also enjoy Revue Starlight.

And that's where the problem starts to show. When I read about Revue Starlight many years ago, I had the impression that it would be much similar to Revolutionary Girl Utena, but in a more modern stance, putting its own twist on it, much like Penguindrum but more extreme as it was made by different creators. What I actually received was far off; it learns the wrong lesson from Utena and is filled with those modern anime tropes I so dearly hate.

The first three episodes are what I'd probably call the worst in the entire show. It took me months to recover my motivation to watch anime again.

While they introduce the main narrative of the main characters, it also places a much larger focus on the slice of life aspects than the rest of the show. This is, of course, an attempt to familiarize the audience with the characters' normal outer selves before delving into their deeper desires and character flaws. I do have an inherent problem with this approach, however it's become so commonplace these days that I simply can't fault a modern show that has this modern trope. A critique of post-K-ON slice of life can come another day (or never, really).

These first three episodes gave me the impression that the rest of the show would also be structured similarly to these first three: the main characters are always present, and the show would, through them, develop the side characters, eventually closing off with the last couple episodes being dedicated solely to the main characters, with a lot of slice of life in between. Still campy and safe, but at least mildly interesting depending on what they do with the characters.

The show turned into exactly what I was afraid of: a day in the limelight episodes which you could even go so far as characterize as lower-deck episodes. While the connotations of both terms are rather negative, in the anime industry depending on the genre they can be quite common. Though just the inherent function of them still stands true; it's a "low-effort" way to develop your side characters without having to so much as use the main characters. And this makes total sense, it becomes much harder to portray a close story with a side character when you have to somehow write the main character into the mix.

But the resulting narrative is disconnected and muddled. You have many backstories and side stories that all serve just to fit the bare minimum of what it means to "develop" a character, but the connection to the main story of the main characters is so thin that if it had not existed then not much would be lost. So, in order to combat this, Revue Starlight introduces a solution that causes even more problems. Every character must reach the limelight, have a glimmer, have the passion to be the best, want to be the best. Every character is connected to the main theme, every character has the same motivation. Repeated and repeated every episode ad infinitum for the rest of the show as if the show doesn't trust that you'll understand its theme unless it's repeated twelve times. In this way, it's all "connected" back to the same theme, the same goal. A literal goal, not a metaphorical one.

Now excuse me if this becomes crass but what is the point of writing a show where every character has the same motivation by the end of their character arc if not to be completely safe with its own concept? Am I so wrong for being pissed off at the fact that characters start off the episode interesting and end up being fit into the exact same mold as everyone else, practically becoming identical statues which are only differentiated by the various comedic "quirks" they hold? What the fuck is the point of shoving the same theme through every character, a theme which is so empty that I can only describe it as "unbridled optimism," a theme which holds so little complexity it can be understood by a five year old through reading one picture book?

What you risk when you make narrative changes to the characters is the stability of a show. If sit-coms, for example, had character narrative arcs end in ways that impact the structure of the show, or their appearance on the show, the writing would have to change around it. Perhaps the absence of the character produces different dynamics among the cast. Perhaps the narrative arc changed the character so drastically that their dialogue with the other characters has to be different from when it used to.

And so where does Revolutionary Girl Utena fit into this at all?

It simply did not solve the original problem, or you could say it diverted the problem. Instead of making the episodes entirely about the side characters, it uses the main character as the solution, or to be more concrete as the ending point for the episode narrative arc. This way, the connection can range from being extremely thin (as in Utena Tenjou is only the solution) to a close connection (Utena Tenjou is both the solution and directly related to the arc at hand). By the end of the episode, Utena must win. Utena is the only winner, regardless of the ambition of the other characters.

But this still doesn't fully answer the question. All Utena characters are striving to "revolutionize the world." Such a system sounds very similar to Revue Starlight's stage. All of them must duel each other in order to reach this one same goal. That is, unless you devoid the goal from being literal in the first place. This is Revue Starlight's final nail in the coffin: the lack of allegory.

Revolutionary Girl Utena's narrative works so well because to "revolutionize the world" does not mean to actually cause revolution within the real world and change societal structures. Instead, it's a metaphor for self-actualization for the character, for growth of the character. It no longer becomes a battle for the top, but rather a battle for the self, and it's not competitive amongst the cast; rather, it is entirely individual. Again, Utena must win. She is the only winner. Thus, by extension, every character must lose. By losing, they lose both the flaw and the motivation to "revolutionize the world." They grow into a distinct character, who no longer holds the same obsession as everyone else.

Revue Starlight voids this fact and takes it much too literally; while the stage itself is not grounded in practical reality, the goal is. It's tangible, and something genuinely obtainable that will have real-world effects, as demonstrated in one of the character narratives throughout the series. While it's possible to attempt to attach allegories to this goal and the Starlight stage itself, the simple fact that this is so grounded in reality stops those interpretations from holding much weight.

Unlike Revolutionary Girl Utena, this fight is not centered around the individual act of self-growth, but rather an actual fight for this "wish," and how only "one" can attain it. The moments of "growth" are not a loss of their past selves, but rather how they regain their "glimmer," or their motivation to attain this goal. This is not character development. I cannot, in all good sense, say that a character has gone through development when the basis of an episode is about removing a part of their character they've had since the start of the show, and the episode is about them regaining it, ending up in the same place they've started. This is literally just resetting characters so you can expose their backstories in a way that doesn't feel forced, except in doing so it just makes it feel even more forced.

However, applying this to all characters would make this a disingenuous statement. Because there is one genuine exception. A character arc that spanned three episodes, and while many, and I mean many ironic statements are spouted about change during this arc, it does break its own mold in a way I didn't expect. It did not particularly blow me away with depth, as the subject matter/motivation at hand is for one overplayed in the medium, and secondly it doesn't play its cards in a way that you wouldn't expect upon the first episode of the arc. But I think its existence gives me at least some hope that Revue Starlight was aware of the issues it itself produced in the earlier episodes, and decided to give us at least ONE shining hope... even if the moment the arc ends, they go back to the exact same slice of life interactions and jokes they've had since the start of the show. Sigh. I fucking hate bananas.

The best way I can describe Revue Starlight characters is by taking a couple cardboard boxes, painting them different colors and stamping different addresses on them. Making sure they're closed. One by one I open them to reveal what's inside. They're equally empty. The audience then goes and picks the box they think looks the prettiest or has the funniest address stamped on it. (The rest of this has been redacted because I seem to have made a mod mad enough to read this review.)

I've tried my best to keep it spoiler-free thus far, but this is where I'm going to dip my toes into a bit of spoilers. I never expected to even need this section, but I must thank Revue Starlight for giving me more content to write.

A lot of the ending surrounds, as is par for the course with this show, a repetition of events that came before. Once again, Karen has to chase Hikari because of their promise, but this time... uh, this time... it's the same thing? I seriously cannot see the narrative difference between these two arcs in what they accomplish, except for the fact that the latter takes place at the end of the show and looks more grandiose. It also introduces elements clearly inspired by Puella Magi Madoka Magica, swapping some of the roles around, but misunderstanding why it worked so well, and instead forcibly inserting it for window dressing's sake I guess?

But I think, above all, what pisses me off more about the ending is the fact that Revue Starlight tries to have its cake and eat it too. As is usual for episodic/weekly formatted shows, the beginning introduces the plot so all the episodic stuff afterwards has something to piggyback off of. We've already gone over this, but what episodic shows also tend to do is have a plot at the end as well, usually spanning a couple of episodes. This plot will usually turn a comedic tone into a serious one, abandoning the format of "episodic" altogether as the episodes will be parts of a plot. This plot will likely have drastic consequences and changes to the actual show, in ways that, if the show were to continue past this point by means of a sequel or something else, it would be completely changed. Revue Starlight does not necessarily follow the weekly structure, as narrative arcs can span multiple episodes already, however the overarching unchanged structure of the show I mentioned before would make Revue Starlight more than qualify for being called as such.

What I didn't expect was for slice of life scenes to be inserted into this plot, which are by and far episodic elements. I genuinely do not understand why the show breaks its own established tension and tone for this ending plot to show these scenes. And they happen at the worst possible times, like for example an episode will start with a slice of life scene despite the previous episode ending on a massive cliffhanger. It's not like these scenes contribute anything either, as the dialogue spoken is exactly as implied; just a slice of their life, nothing else. It fucking baffles me. Why are you trying so hard to pander to the part of the audience who enjoys this type of content, when you know it's going to break the genuine storytelling happening in the ending?

At the very least I can give Revue Starlight credit for being so blatant in the fact that a movie or some kind of sequel was going to exist. The actual final scenes did not really resolve much. The show wanted the audience to feel like the ending was deserved, but not to the point of conclusive. It wants the audience to crave more of Revue Starlight. In my case, endings like these only make me feel unsatisfied and bitter toward the actual show. Instead of actually giving me a satisfying ending and then giving me more content through the movie ala End of Evangelion, or to further the point Adolescence of Utena, the show leaves things out in what I can only call a marketing ploy.

I've said enough. Do me a favor and watch Adolescence of Utena.