Set in Shibuya, one of the hippest wards in all of Tokyo, Tonkatsu DJ Agetarou serves as a lighthearted and irreverent introduction to the fertile dance music scene that the area is globally recognized for. We’re given little time to get to know or understand its protagonist, Agetarou Katsumata, an unmotivated young man whose interests or passions are never explored before the story flings him into this world via a late-night delivery from his family’s tonkatsu restaurant to a hungry employee of a late night dance club. The encounter finds Agetarou instantly smitten with the scene, and over this series’ twelve episodes he gradually grows from being an astoundingly clueless outsider to a highly skilled DJ who’s organizing events with a moxy far beyond any of his more experienced peers. Agetarou’s journey from the bottom to the top is the kind of underdog story that’s reminiscent of countless other anime series but with a laser-like focus on cutting out anything that’s not essential to keeping the plot moving forward at all times. This is not an anime that pauses for moments of nuanced character development or introspective reflection. A sense of goofy optimism courses through every episode, but it’s hard to call it genuinely inspirational. It’s unrelentingly silly but never feels quite like a comedy anime, either. Failure to truly succeed in these regards could be leveled as a criticism against it, although it would be just as easy to praise the series for resisting simple categorization or whatever. I’m committing myself to neither judgement, and there’s plenty more fence-sitting to come!

Tonkatsu DJ Agetarou is based on an ongoing manga that bears the sort of “quirky” art style that rarely inspires anime adaptations or survives the process without radical revisions (consider the original One Punch Man webcomic compared to its manga remake and eventual anime, which surely isn’t the only example of this but certainly the best one I can think of off the top of my head). This 2016 animated adaptation sticks to its original visual approach pretty faithfully, playing out in a loose and unapologetically cartoon-y style that’s probably not going to appeal to many western viewers whose preconceptions of anime are predominantly formed by exposure to high-profile tentpole series with single episode budgets that probably dwarf Tonkatsu‘s entire cost. It feels like an anime that would naturally attract manga readers, although I can’t imagine what it would be like to experience this story without the musical soundtrack of its anime adaptation. The music of the series is surprisingly varied and often extremely catchy (although the appeal of certain musical motifs starts to wear thin after a great deal of repetition over the twelve episodes). It’s an enjoyable anime that, at least on the surface, doesn’t seem to take itself too seriously. And with a runtime of only nine minutes per episode, it never wears out its welcome. Would the story have been better served by full-length episodes? Maybe, maybe not. A lot of this anime felt incredibly rushed to me, and my biggest issues with it are inevitably a product of the episodes simply not having a single second to spare for any of the matters of character development that I’m so hung up on here. But I suppose complaining about that is missing the point completely, and asking Tonkatsu DJ Agetarou to be a completely different kind of show altogether.

About that character development: Agetarou’s rise from a wide-eyed novice to an expert DJ over the course of a few months (judging solely by the change of seasons over the course of the series) requires a suspension of disbelief that most anime fans should be able to muster, but the series never answers the basic question of why he wants to be a DJ at all. From his first exposure to dance music as he’s let through the back door of the Club Box, to purchasing a mixer and turntables, landing his first gig and slowly integrating himself into the scene, we almost never catch a glimpse of Agetaro actually working to perfect his craft or sacrificing anything meaningful in the process. We’re never given much evidence that he even enjoys music at all, outside of the thrill he experiences in the confines of a club fitted with a professional sound system, lighting and an enthusiastic crowd. He loves the sensory overload of the entire experience, but who doesn’t? His first foray into “digging” yields a fantastic “rare groove” record that experienced DJs marvel at; he chooses said record at random from a bin without even listening to it. The life-changing epiphany that leads him down this path begins immediately after first setting foot in the club, where he witnesses a surprise performance from DJ Big Master Fry, an American hip-hop pioneer who is totally not Kool Herc or Grandmaster Flash. In a daze, he is visited by a vision of Big Master Fry, who quickly notices Agetarou’s potential, spells out the many parallels between tonkatsu preparation and a the essential elements of a crowd-pleasing DJ set (a recurring theme that will help the protagonist out of any difficulties he encounters in his quest, while also providing a deeper subtext that may or may not be obvious to its intended audience), and personally anoints Agetarou’s place as a superstar DJ in the works long before he’s even touched a turntable. This cosmic coronation might be a bit tongue-in-cheek; nevertheless, it is the catalyst for the entire story.

It’s easy to criticize this series for not being the well-rounded shonen anime that, on the surface, it initially appears to resemble. Is it fair? Probably not. Like countless shonen-esque heroes before him who’ve set out to master a craft, Agetarou approaches his newfound calling with a preexisting and apparently unrelated set of skills and influences that give him an inherent understanding of how to DJ… despite showing zero musical aptitude, little determination to press through setbacks or any shred of willingness to really work hard and succeed where countless casual would-be DJs failed. When it comes to learning a new skill, this is every beginner’s dream and the delusion of countless fools. It’s also a shortcut I’ve forgiven many, many stories for taking. Establishing a sympathetic or likeable protagonist is usually all I need to excuse an anime from abusing this cliche. Admittedly, it’s easy enough for the viewer to identify with Agetarou as an unmotivated slacker, a much more relatable archetype than the straight-A student or relentlessly hard working underdog who refuses to quit no matter how difficult the circumstances he faces. But aside from some very brief stage fright before his gigs, we’re never privy to any fears or anxieties he experiences. I cannot imagine a viewer feeling emotionally invested in his journey, but if you view him as an inoffensive but necessary vehicle to explore Shibuya’s diverse nightlife from episode to episode, then perhaps there’s no need to “care” about him at all. There’s not a shred of arrogance in Agetarou’s character, but he still comes across as a vessel for the entitled dreams of the post-EDM generation. Even with zero preexisting curiosity or musical talent, the world is his oyster and his success is never in doubt. He is a gross and stupid idiot (not that there’s anything wrong with that). The coolest neighborhood in the world his is playground and he’s welcomed into it with the most open and eager arms I’ve ever seen in a supporting cast of characters. If I’m adamant that none of this bothers me, why would I focus on it so much?

Full disclosure: After graduating high school, I blew a very large chunk of my graduation money on a DJ starter kit: two turntables and a mixer. I did this in spite of the fact that I had no idea how to DJ, knew no one who could teach me, and just had a hunch that my interest in DJ’ing (or my vague understanding of what it actually entailed) would see me through to become a competent novice who would slowly but inevitably develop his skills over time. This plan was flawed from the very start, first and foremost because I was completely broke, having ignored the basic fact that the hobby required a steady disposable income and was just as much an act of constant consumerism as it was of musical self expression. Sure, the Internet is full of resources that everyone leans on to learn any skill whatsoever, but it would still be several years before it would eventually become such a helpful tool in this regard. Ultimately, DJing was and still is a very social pursuit that’s best learned and experienced in the company of other people. Living in the middle of nowhere, not knowing a single person who had any interest in mixing (and certainly no one who would take a total newbie under their wing, a necessity this series takes for granted), it wasn’t long before frustration set in and I lost all motivation to pursue it any further. The only lasting lesson I learned from the experience was that… DJing is hard. Tools, tutorials and software have definitely made it a lot easier since I last tried my hand at it, but like almost anything requiring a decent amount of hands-on practice, nothing beats having someone who knows their stuff just sit you down and show you how to do it. Am I being overly critical of this series because it overlooks this entire learning curve? Because its intensely dense goober of a protagonist and the success he experiences is a cringeworthy mirror of how I once sort of expected to sleepwalk my way to a certain level of admirable competency? Because watching a fictional character who never has trouble finding mentors eager to hold his hand through literally every step of the process just rubs me the wrong way? I mean, it doesn’t. Not really…

Considering the list of hang ups this review has constituted up to this point, it would probably come as a surprise to finally report that, overall, I mostly enjoyed this anime for what it was. No, is not a documentary about DJ culture, but at every point where the story and worldbuilding feels like it’s careening into a hyper dumbed-down depiction of the subject matter, it unveils just a little more nuance and complexity than you’d expect. While every new anime season brings a rash of cookie-cutter series that double down on previously-explored subjects and rarely take any creative risks that break from already established formulas, Tonkatsu DJ Agetarou refuses to pander to such temptations. It doesn’t merely dive into a specific setting and subject that break from the safe havens that most series are squarely planted in (including plenty of great ones, sure), but does so with a style that sets it apart from anything else released in 2016, let alone the rest of the decade. For its daring originality, it’s been all but consigned to the margins of anime fans’ collective consciousness. Perhaps it seems timely that I’m publishing this post now, particularly with the manga’s live action adaptation due to arrive in Japanese theaters this week. I actually had no idea that was a thing until now.

If you’re in the mood for a brisk and unpretentious series that isn’t striving to evoke the same old same old, you could do a lot worse than this anime. That’s the height of halfhearted recommendations, I know. Why bother to review something if you can’t form a solid opinion on it? Even if I sometimes come away with mixed feelings, maybe I just like to explore series that fly under the radar and don’t seem to get a lot of love on this side of the pond. Even as a huge fan of anime music videos, I struggle to recall if I’ve ever seen an AMV incorporate a single scene from this anime. That’s an unofficial test of any anime’s popularity if there ever was one, but I think it says something, especially when said anime is packed front to back with scenes of people dancing and spinning records. Tonkatsu DJ Agetarou is a niche anime if there ever was one. It’s a low-risk, quick watch of a series that doesn’t ask much of viewers. Go ahead and turn off your brain for this one, it doesn’t make much of a difference… and that’s fine. I doubt that its creators would be too offended by that suggestion. You could watch yet another high school anime or isekai light novel series (no, seriously, you should if that’s what you want to do!) or you could try something very different. It’s not a lost masterpiece, but it might be just what you’re looking for.