For too long, the social label enjoyed—or perhaps suffered—by the anime industry is that of degeneracy. Though celebrated now, it wasn’t always cool or goated to watch anime, make edits of the flashiest fighting scenes, and follow Instagram accounts detailing your favorite’s newest season or movie adaptation.
I was consuming anime (well, one in particular) at the same time I was watching on repeat The Adventures of Sharkboy and Lavagirl, Teen Titans Go!, SpongeBob SquarePants, and Steven Universe: a crazed blend of superheroes, fictional fish, and queer socio- and geopolitics of humanoid-space-rocks.
But why hasn’t watching Japanese animation always been a symbol of trendiness like it is now in the West? You may as well live under a rock if you’ve never interacted with current titles. Anime used to be cringe! I remind everyone who is now free to enjoy shows like Attack on Titan, Jujutsu Kaisen, Chainsaw Man, and Spy x Family without strange looks or lapses in conversation—what’s that? or Oh, I don’t watch that stuff.Â
It could be that past series haven’t been all that enticing. For example, in 2017, when I was around 12, some of the most popular shows on MyAnimeList were completely unappealing because they were:
- full of fanservice (defined by Cambridge as “actions, … that are included in a movie, television show, computer game, comic book, performance, etc. in order to please its fans”), which often meant putting female leads in risqué or humorously compromising positions
- laughably perverse (the premise of “My First Girlfriend is a Gal” begins with, “Following a prank pulled by his perverse friends, Junichi Hashiba asks a gal out in an attempt to change the fact that he’s a hopeless virgin.”
- rife with the “harm” genre, which typically places a boring male character as the object of affection of the rest of the cast, a wide range of female peers
Most of these shows, too, were authored by males. Stories like Konosuba, My First Girlfriend is a Gal, and Saekano: How to Raise a Boring Girlfriend .flat (do you see another pattern emerging, as well?) dominated, and even as a twelve-year-old I developed the opinion that such shows, meant to objectify, infantilize, and outright embarrass their female casts, were humiliating for both creator and audience.Â
I mean, we still have that today—I’m looking at you, Bikini Warriors—but there’s something to be said about a well-crafted, female-driven anime. And I want to show you some. Not to detract from the greatness of IPs like Chainsaw Man, but it’s about time female authors receive the spotlight, too. Especially from those new to animanga. Whether you’re in need of a rewatch or the discovery of a new series to fawn over, I hope this list serves enjoyable recs and calls attention to the great works of the female authors in Japan.
- Rumiko Takahashi’s InuYasha: When high schooler Kagome Higurashi is pulled into her family’s well by a demon, transporting her to Feudal era Japan, she must work with InuYasha to restore the shards of the broken Shikon Jewel after it breaks during the journey. I watched the English dub on Adult Swim right after the nightly showing of Sharkboy and Lavagirl. There is not a better story that balances love, heartbreak, identity, coming-of-age, action, adventure, and romance, and I’m serious.Â
- Ai Yazawa’s Nana: A queer-coded narrative between two women with the same name, the story follows their arrival in Tokyo—one pursuing fame, the other romance—and how they balance their friendship through it all.
- AidaIro’s Toilet-Bound Hanako-Kun: Yashiro Nene travels to the girls’ bathroom to ask a favor of the rumored spirit, Hanako-san… only to find out she’s actually a boy! They’re forced to strike a deal, and Nene becomes his assistant. AidaIro is actually a compound of Aida and Iro; the former illustrates the manga the anime is based on, while the latter is the writer. Both are women.
- Natsu Hyuuga’s The Apothecary Diaries: Follows apothecary Maomao as she is suddenly kidnapped and forced to work in the Imperial Palace in a historic setting reminiscent of imperial China. She solves mysteries, tends to the concubines, engages in political intrigue, and notices something strange about a certain eunuch within the palace…
- Akiko Higashimura’s Princess Jellyfish: In Tokyo, an apartment building is occupied by the “Sisterhood”, no men allowed. Tsukimi Kurashita’s obsession with jellyfish traces back to her late mother, which she uses to navigate identity, family, self-expression, and prejudice.