The Best Anime of 2023 - Monique Thomas, Lynzee Loveridge + The Best Movies of 2023

5. Undead Murder Farce

I'll be honest: summer this year was pretty dry. I could barely remember the last time a season had such a dearth of shows that interested me. The day I run out of anime to watch might as well be the day I die, but thankfully, for all of you, I survived, thanks to Undead Murder Farce. This show was practically my oasis. The premise combines so many of my interests and presents them in a fun and energetic manner. Upfront, Undead Murder Farce is a sophisticated and smart detective series keen on examining a world where humans and monsters co-exist. Behind the curtain, it's a romp that juggles various genres and famous figures of fiction into one big melting pot. Undead Murder Farce indulgently twists conventions and weaves them into head-scratching puzzles that are entertaining and satisfying to watch.

Oh, but what's a show without performers? Much of Undead Murder Farce's energy comes from the characters, particularly Tsuguru and Aya, who constantly banter to liven up the room while simultaneously sorting the facts of the case. Many opposing characters also provide an air of showmanship—with Moriarty and his whole circus of monsters alongside Arsene Lupin's show-stealing personality. As an anime, Undead Murder Farce feels intelligent but not ashamed of being humorous or crude. It's the perfect project for director Mamoru Hatakeyama, who busts out his SHAFT sensibilities to keep the visuals interesting and moving. There are plenty of actions and antics to balance out the more think-y bits. The opening number, "Crack-Crack-Crackle," is a pleasantly obnoxious dance anthem by the girl group CLASS:y, representing the party the show is throwing. All in all, Undead Murder Farce is an old-fashioned good time.

4. Oshi no Ko

When it comes to popularity, some anime you know will be hits, and others slowly rise to the top, but no anime feels more like an overnight sensation than Oshi no Ko. The moment that 90-minute-long first episode dropped, it was all over social media. Boom! Instant hit. This weird half-reincarnated murder-mystery, half-examination of the entertainment industry quickly draws in anyone who dares gaze upon it. With the original manga written by Kaguya-sama's Love is War creator Aka Akasaka and drawn by Scum's Wish Mengo Yokoyari, Oshi no Ko's got a star quality that makes it hard to look away. Plus, who could turn away from those insanely catchy opening and ending songs by YOASOBI and Avu-chan of Queen Bee?

The set-up for the mystery is bold enough to hook you in, but the staying power lies with the behind-the-scenes investigation of the entertainment industry. The dream biz that dictates the characters' lives is anything but. The story centers around the caveats of fame and the cruelties people tolerate to ensure greater success. Aqua, Ruby, and Kana all struggle to come into their own while putting on a good face for the adoring audience. However, the dark reality of the industry doesn't overshadow the passion and hard work the characters put towards their jobs. The characters' dual perspectives, as both performers and fans, spotlight their underlying feelings of hope. Confronting reality isn't about crushing our capacity to dream. We dream of creating a better reality. I'm dreaming of everyone checking out Season 2!

3. Frieren: Beyond Journey's End

Frieren: Beyond Journey's End is the story of an elf looking to find meaning in her life. Taking place several decades after the defeat of the demon king by Frieren's party, Frieren sells itself as a high fantasy, but what's truly fantastic about Frieren is how much of it feels very real. Between the occasional life-and-death battles with various monsters, most of the story is downtime or detours. Whether it's a side quest given by locals, navigating a new town, or waiting for the passage of a long winter, there's an attention to detail that is far more grounded than what you'd expect out of the typical RPG setting. Keiichirō Saitō's direction paints these moments with a poignant sense of atmosphere. The colors and lighting are vibrant—and the characters' mannerisms are almost lifelike. Each scene is supported by Evan Call's classical-inspired score, melodies that frequently plucked the strings of my heart in ways I didn't think were possible.

Lest you think it's all about sitting around and smelling the flowers, the action and humor are also on-point, and much thought has been put into the world-building. Besides, the characters are so fun that spending time with them doesn't feel like a waste of time. Interactions between them feel warm—and many interesting people and stories discovered along the way make their journey feel "worth it." Most of Frieren's fond memories of Himmel's party comprise similar exchanges.

Lots of anime talk big about saving the world without thinking about what is worth saving. By contrast, I would describe much of Frieren's vibes as "lived-in," like a cozy room or a dog-eared book. It proposes that life's small comforts are often hard-fought, and that's why they shouldn't be taken for granted. I was worried an anime adaptation would not be able to capture such nuances of the manga due to differences in medium and the struggles anime productions typically face. Still, no effort has been spared to make the world of Frieren feel alive.

2. Scott Pilgrim Takes Off

Anime and Western properties don't always go together, yet Japanese properties influence many Western creators. Over the past few decades, anime and video games have slowly encroached into global pop culture, yet it's primarily dedicated fans acknowledge them. Brian Lee O'Malley is one such fan. The Korean-Canadian artist was deeply inspired by anime and homages plenty of anime and video game tropes in the 2003 comic series Scott Pilgrim. In 2010, Scott Pilgrim was re-imagined as a Hollywood Movie directed by Edgar Wright and became a cult hit. In 2023, Netflix, Science SARU, and Universal Productions made Scott Pilgrim its own anime. Going from being a small-time comic artist to getting adapted into a movie, an anime, and a video game makes Brian Lee O'Malley the luckiest guy in the world.

Scott Pilgrim Takes Off goes a step further, though. Instead of just being a straightforward adaptation, it's an honest engagement with the original story and the characters that fully utilizes the medium of animation. Science SARU and O'Malley blew the lid off this thing, making something that no one has ever seen. It's got more background of the comic and a well-rounded take on O'Malley's art style that makes it more detailed than the movie. Still, it's also entirely its own thing—and serves as a kind of sequel like the Rebuild of Evangelion movies might be to the TV version. Plus, it's exciting to hear known live-action actors try to be voice actors, and the Japanese cast is equally stacked—not to mention those amazing needle drops! It shows a lot of potential for future collaborations between anime creators and the West, but what's important is that it's entirely sincere and authentic love for everything that brings it together.

1. PLUTO

Okay, let me kick us off by saying that while I find anime fun and enjoyable, I consider most of them simple and light—like a bowl of popcorn. Like a good action movie, anime is great at catering to a mass audience because it's entertaining and uncomplex. As most anime targets teenagers and young adults, this makes sense, but it doesn't stop me from desiring anime that deals with more mature, heavy, or high-concept ideas. Naoki Urasawa's PLUTO is that. Inspired by his memories of reading Osamu Tezuka's The Mighty Atom (Astro Boy for us Westerners) when he was young, Urasawa adapts "The Greatest Robot on Earth" saga to translate Tezuka's universal messages about power and war to a modern audience.

While most anime shy away from certain ideas and avoid making real-world comparisons, PLUTO tackles issues head-on. How much PLUTO has to say is almost overwhelming, but how it challenges and respects the audience to take it all in is respectable. Watching the hour-long episodes is like eating an expensive meal. Each episode is a rich, thick, juicy steak. Despite dropping via Netflix's binge model, I had to take my time eating it because binging it would leave my head too full, only watching one episode at a time over the entire season. The adaptation of Urasawa's semi-realistic style into animation is miraculous, and both the pacing and dialogue feel cinematic in a way that eating it was never a chore. I can't imagine the amount of skill that must've been called on to craft the expressions of each character in every scene. It's an extremely delicious show that I recommend everyone savor and do their best to digest fully; you never know when you'll eat like this again.

I had to make this easier on myself by cutting any anime that are still running (sorry, Frieren) and avoiding recency bias. Do you remember what anime you were watching in January 2023? I didn't either, but I browsed through the backlogs of the season and had more than one "aha!" moment, including number five on this list.

5. Buddy Daddies

Comparisons to Spy×Family overshadowed Buddy Daddies, but this original series starring two hitmen and their surprise daughter deserves attention. A sort of spiritual follow-up to P.A. Works' previous Akiba Maid War, the anime encompasses the feel-good vibes of a found-family narrative starring a really hot cat guy who sleeps in a bathtub. What starts as a slapstick action series evolves into a well-paced drama about escaping a cycle of abuse, healing after the loss of a loved one, and the importance of DAISO. The action sequences stagnate a bit in the middle, and all the obvious shipping bait is stamped out in the end, but the series is superbly animated throughout and caps off with a satisfying ending.

A word of warning, a dog does die in this one.

4. Pluto

A compelling, cinematic anime series like this only comes around once in a blue moon. Pluto was nearly a decade in the making, boasting hour-long episodes that hew closely to Naoki Urasawa's acclaimed manga series. The series is a dense, emotionally overwhelming treatise on the Iraq War and humanity's propensity for violence. As a millennial, it's in some ways cathartic in its frankness regarding the United States government's haughty treatment of conflicts beyond its own borders.

Studio M2, Masao Maruyama's newest studio endeavor, brings Urasawa's story to life with equal quietness and tension. The 3D effect compositing isn't perfect, and arguably the series adheres too closely to the original blueprint, but these small quibbles are just that, small, when evaluating the grander story. What keeps PLUTO from ranking higher is its final arc. The larger story beats gel into a mostly satisfying package but are stymied by a rather ridiculous final confrontation and a last-minute villain that isn't adequately explained. I would still recommend PLUTO to casual anime viewers or the uninitiated (I tried to get my dad to watch it), but I wasn't fully satisfied by its wrap-up.

3. Mobile Suit Gundam: The Witch from Mercury Season 2

This was appointment viewing during its run, and half the fun was theory-crafting and scrolling through fan art each week. Witch from Mercury was a certified success, cultivating a large fan base that translated to an increase in merch sales, with some Gunpla models selling out of stores. The actual anime broached difficult topics, including the cast's respective relationship with their parents and how the sins of the parent trickle down to their offspring. Prospera stole every scene she was in, fully committed to her desperate ply for the reincarnation of her daughter.

It mostly sealed the deal with a satisfying ending but, like almost all my picks for this year, doubled down on humanity's propensity for war. There were a few lackluster production issues, and it was easy to get bogged down by the #lore, but its emotional character writing overcame that. I'm glad I can send off the first female-led Gundam show with accolades. I hope someday Sunrise returns to play in this space again.

2. Attack on Titan Final Season THE FINAL CHAPTERS

The controversial end to one of the biggest anime series in the last decade is fearless in its relentless commitment to its themes. Attack on Titan dares to dream of a better world, albeit only a failsafe until we continue to perpetuate untold horrors upon one another again. It's not the ending you expect from a story that started with its fiery central character swearing revenge on man-eating monsters. In some ways, Attack on Titan starts with a similar conundrum presented in The Promised Neverland manga, but Eren was never open to finding common ground.

Attack on Titan shows that the worst enemy to humanity is fear of the other and that the most reprehensible members of the human race are run-of-the-mill stupid people with power. In the end, I can't really argue with its thesis, but I wish I could.

1. Heavenly Delusion

An amazingly crafted animated series from Production I.G, Heavenly Delusion plays with viewer expectations to craft a multi-layered mystery filled with monsters both human and inhuman. Unfortunately, it was cordoned off to the depths of Hulu with subtitle-timing issues that didn't help its visibility. The series starred some of my favorite characters this year, the ever-efficient survivalist Kiruko and their infatuation-struck muscle Maru. The pair are on a journey through a post-apocalyptic world to discover the nature of their own existences, facing horror after horror with a surprisingly grounded acceptance.

The series does come with its share of caveats and controversies, including exceptionally dark twists focusing on suicide and sexual assault. The latter is point of contention, but where the manga clumsily handled an extended scene of deep betrayal, director Hirotaka Mori gives it the weight it needs through careful framing that never feels insensitive toward the victim or gratuitous to entice the audience. I had to sit with the series for several weeks after viewing to evaluate my feelings on it, but in the end felt that it was handled far better than most anime that broach this topic.

I hope the staff return to dive further into the material. There is still a plethora of mysteries to solve in this strange world.

While Totto-Chan: The Little Girl at the Window is the best stand-alone anime movie I saw this year (and you can read why in my review here), Psycho-Pass Providence is my pick for the best film because not only is it a quality film in its own right but it has major implications for the entire Psycho-Pass series overall as well.

A prequel to Psycho-Pass 3, Psycho-Pass Providence follows Akane and her team as they deal not only with a series of terrorist attacks but also the impending governmental decision to do away with the legal system entirely—leaving all questions of right or wrong to the Sybil System entirely. The general mystery is solid, with all the twists and turns you've come to expect—along with a decent amount of moral philosophizing. In the process, the film not only brings Akane and Togami back together again but also tells the story of Arata's father and Kei's brother—completely re-contextualizing everything seen in Psycho-Pass 3. And to top everything else off, it answers Psycho-Pass 3's greatest unanswered mystery: Why is Akane in prison? (And let me tell you, it was tough not to pick the scene where that is answered as my favorite anime moment of the year.)

I do not put this movie on here lightly. Admittedly, it probably wouldn't be here if somebody had gotten around to releasing Gridman Universe or maboroshi before the end of the year, but that doesn't mean Makoto Shinkai's latest feature didn't have to earn its way into my superlatives. While I wouldn't call myself a hater, I've always approached the director's work with a lot of skepticism, and that's only increased as he's risen to become the biggest name in theatrical anime. So, I was genuinely surprised that I ended up loving Suzume as much as I do.

A big part of the difference is that, while Shinkai doesn't abandon his creative fascinations, he's much less precious about cutting them down or shifting focus to better tie the story, characters, and themes together through the narrative. Largely unburdened with the need for a dramatic romance or RADWIMPS montages, Suzume was allowed to be fast, focused, and use that firmer sense of direction to finally grapple with the questions of societal trauma and disaster that your name. and Weathering With You only tackled from a distance. Rather than hiding behind fantastical metaphors and broad allusion, the film straight up says it's about the 2011 Tohoku disaster and centers its characters' arcs around processing and reckoning with the pain that tragedy has left in its wake. With that idea out in the open, it allows the characters and narrative to truly grapple with their fears, guilt, ennui, and everything in between, all tied into a gorgeously animated and wonderfully paced feature.

What seals it for me is the titular Suzume. She's by far Shinkai's most well-realized heroine, likable and charming but tempered with a darker sense of guilt and recklessness that allows her to throw herself into a supernatural road trip without hesitation. She has the dynamism and determination to carry the story as its hero while carrying a deep hurt that becomes the thematic backbone of the entire film, culminating in a heartbreaking conclusion that feels both earned and affirming in a way even Shinkai's best works have never fully achieved before. My biggest hope is that Suzume doesn't end up being the peak of his career but instead marks a new threshold for him to work from moving forward.

Hayao Miyazaki's latest and probably-but-maybe-not-except-who-the-hell-even-knows-anymore "last" movie is perhaps the most challenging film he's ever made. Not in the "difficult to understand" sense, mind you, but in the "This movie exists so that an old man with an incredible burden of legacy can take what might be his last opportunity to reflect on everything that he finds terrifying and wonderful about the act of creation, and he doesn't really care if it plays well for anyone else" way. Mahito is as reserved and inscrutable a protagonist as Miyazaki has ever created. His journey through the nebulous world of myth and mythmaking that the titular Heron leads him to is so rife with messy allegory and dreamlike symbolism that it makes for a film that is much harder to immediately engage with than, say, My Neighbor Totoro or Spirited Away.

Anyone who knows me will tell you that I am more than a little obsessed with deeply personal and somewhat compromised magnum opuses, though, so it shouldn't be of any surprise to learn that The Boy and the Heron hit me like a ten-ton truck. I haven't gotten it out of my head since I saw it. It contains some of the most visually dazzling work of Miyazaki's entire career, for one, not to mention what might be my favorite of Joe Hisaishi's musical scores. Still, on top of all that, the obtuse and somewhat muddled elements that turned some viewers off of this story are exactly what made me adore this movie more than most anything else Miyazaki has ever made (Spirited Away and Kiki's Delivery Service are the only ones that surpass it, in my opinion). Not only is this a haunting and beautiful portrait of a life that Miyazaki dreamed up for a little boy who may or may not stand in for himself, it is a triumph of animation from one of the greatest artists of our time. It may end up being the final chance we'll have to appreciate him for it while he's still here.

This was a great year for Aoi Koga, by my account. Her turn as Knives in the Japanese dub of Scott Pilgrim Takes Off was one of the cornerstones of that cast. Her performance as Konoha in 16bit Sensation: Another Layer anchored that anime with the perfect amount of lovably dopey relatable nerdery. And towards the beginning of this year, we in the West heard her return to arguably her most defining role in the titular Kaguya-sama. They even gave us what they knew we wanted, introducing Little Kaguya to deliver 25% more of Ms. Koga's upper-octave squeaky voice by volume.

I always say that in any year with a Kaguya-sama entry, all other anime that year are competing with Kaguya-sama. This year's anime series thus got off on a technicality since the film status of The First Kiss That Never Ends means it only manages to sweep the movie category (it's also helped by the powers that be still deigning to keep Gridman Universe out of our neck of the woods, for some unfathomable reason). That's fine enough since it's still an immensely entertaining escalation of the Kaguya-sama setup. It turns out that confessing and dating have done nothing to stem the dipshit competitiveness of Kaguya and Miyuki. So we are treated to life-or-death mind games enacted over such battlefields as text message read receipts and holiday gift-giving. There's a violent combination of Christmas/New Year's celebrations. Miyuki's dad is there. It's everything that I continue wanting from Kaguya-sama and why I'll continue looking forward to it being a dominant force any given year a new entry releases.

I had slim pickings to choose from this year (alas, I really wish I had been able to catch The First Slam Dunk in theaters), but I also don't want it to seem like I'm giving Miyazaki a Lifetime Achievement Award. It's all too easy to mythologize him as either Ghibli's avuncular weaver of family-friendly classics, or as the iron-fisted tyrant who drove away all the talent who wouldn't or couldn't submit to his rule. He's a more complicated figure than either of these extremes, and no other film of his exemplifies that complexity to the extent that The Boy and the Heron does. In the weeks since I watched it, certain scenes and images from it have stuck themselves in my craw like no other film of his has achieved. I saw some people frustrated by its abstractions, but I think that's where the movie is at its strongest. It revels in symbols and metaphors slathered in ambiguity and bird feces. I could not tell you precisely what it comes together to say, but considering its Japanese title, How Do You Live?, that lack of definition and clarity has to be intentional. Living is an ongoing process. We reach its terminus without knowing if any of our answers are correct. It is in that search, however, that we forge our own paths and identities. That's the level that The Boy and the Heron works on, and that's why it's a film I look forward to returning to.