In Another World With My Smartphone 2

Despite all the hate it rightfully received, I really enjoyed the first season of In Another World with My Smartphone. The English dub of the first season brought self-awareness to the characters, injecting some much-needed humor into an otherwise insipid storyline. This season, that spark of life from the English voice actors is sorely absent. Everyone goes through the motions, counting the days until their paycheck arrives.

Season 2 is purely an abysmal descent into the depths of mediocrity, doubling down on its repulsive misogyny and complete lack of creativity of its predecessor. The episodes are a disgraceful showcase of women reduced to objects.

To start, we should get the animation out of the way—or should I say, the absence of it? Instead of breathing life into the action, they serve up mind-numbing still shots that make a snail’s pace look like a Formula 1 race. Who needs fluidity when you can have a slideshow of stagnant scenery? And the art? It’s a mishmash of confusion and chaos. Character designs morph into distorted monstrosities, mocking the very notion of artistic coherence. You’ll be playing a game of guess-the-character as they transform into unrecognizable blobs before your eyes.

But hold on, we can’t overlook the anime’s defining trait—the abominable off-model faces. When our forgettable protagonist Touya and his harem dare to look sideways or tilt their heads, brace yourself for a roller coaster of contorted faces. Their faces twist and warp into grotesque abominations as if the animators collectively were overworked to exhaustion. It’s as if they took a lesson on character design taught by deranged Dadaists.

One example of their inept compositing is when the characters use their invisibility power. Instead of employing subtle visual cues to convey their appearance, the compositing team opted for a shockingly horrific eyesore. The resulting effect is a jarring combination of poor color grading, sloppy filters, and clashing layers. The characters appear as if they were hastily copy-pasted onto the scene, with no regard for proper lighting or integration.

Now, let’s take a minute to summarize the story—equal parts mind-numbingly dull and painfully predictable. In this pitiful season, we witness Touya’s shameless pursuit of multiple engagements, and his harem of indistinguishable girls expands. The show stumbles through a series of contrived scenarios, presenting forgettable female characters solely to satisfy our protagonist’s romantic interests. Along the journey, we bare witness to coerced relationships, absurdly imbalanced power dynamics, and the relentless sexualization of women, all woven together in a quilt of tastelessness. The only time he rejects a girl is when a child flirts with him—her father offers her hand in marriage, but Touya respectfully says, “Wait until I AM eighteen.”

This season fails to rise above the cesspool of misogyny established by its predecessor. It revels in reducing women to objects of desire, forsaking originality, and engaging storytelling. The abomination continues with episodes that range from cringe-worthy to appalling. We witness the main characters frolicking in a hot spring, girls non-consensually kissing Touya, and unnecessary fanservice while dismissing any semblance of storytelling or character development. The plot introduces female slaves, miraculously transforming them into “employees” for our esteemed hero. What a good guy! And let’s not forget the fascination with Yaoi-themed books because nothing says respect for women like reducing them to objects of fetishization.

And what about the humor? Prepare yourself for a tidal wave of juvenile jokes and stale innuendos, the sort that could only make middle schoolers laugh. The writer’s misguided attempts at humor only amplify the show’s overall pitiful quality and reinforce its grim treatment of women.

Political intrigue in Smartphone, or so it's meant to be, dissolves into a mishmash of forced engagements and the protagonist’s relentless pursuit of romantic conquests. The show’s obsession with accumulating wives and establishing kingdoms reaches nauseating heights, reaffirming its status as a prime example of the harem genre at its most repugnant. The plot, if it can even be called that, lingers in a wasteland of predictability and worn-out tropes. The dialogue is contrived, lacking any depth or meaningful exchanges. Instead, we’re subjected to a parade of vapid interactions and vacuous relationships centered solely on gratifying the self-insert protagonist’s ego.

In Another World With My Smartphone’s second season is a seething pile of excrement. Its abhorrent misogyny, creative bankruptcy, and absence of character development make for a hilariously awful twelve episodes. Protect yourself from this animated accident and seek out series that treat women with a modicum of respect, subvert stereotypes, and offer engaging stories worth your time.