Dan Da Dan: The Neon Playground—What a tease, by JJ Wiparina

Frustratingly average.

I just can’t get those words out of my head. With a soundtrack, aesthetic and sound design better than most new-gen shōnens, Dan Da Dan (2024) has all the cards to make a great 2020s anime. And yet, it falls flat. Even when the series plays with satire at just the right moments—when it’s on the verge of breaking the mold, the author frustratingly falls back onto the same old regurgitated storylines and plot beats that have plagued the shōnen world for years.

I’ll start with our two main characters. First, we’ve got Momo Ayase, our feisty female lead, who is fine, I guess. She’s got that certain archetype of modern teenage spunk and supernatural intrigue that many new gen series exhibit. Then, we have Ken Takakura (Okarun), the nerdy male counterpart who isn’t that much better. He’s a walking trope: awkward and so tragically predictable. As for the dynamic between the two? Sure, it’s cute at times, but it’s also as if someone took the blueprint for a quirky anime duo and just decided to copy and paste without bothering to tweak it.

Now, I’ll give credit where credit is due: the sound design and aesthetic are exceptional. The atmosphere is honestly better than it has any right to be. Neon, shimmering throughout an alien-infested playground, a place where kinetic energy feels like it’s being harnessed via raw, unadulterated serotonin. The soundtrack, too, is a standout. Tracks pair together and thread the needle between high-energy, slapstick bumpers and haunting extraterrestrial synths, pulling you into a world that, for all its narrative faults, feels genuinely alive.

How about the story? The premise—a mix of ghost hunting, alien encounters and supernatural punch fighting—I’ll give it to them, is undeniably unique. It’s like someone threw JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure (1986), Mob Psycho 100 (2016) and a splash of Urusei Yatsura (1981) into a blender; except what we get is a chunky, lumpy mess. The story jumps from one outrageous set piece to another, barely giving you the time of day to digest what exactly just happened before they decide to throw another golden curveball at you. And while aimlessly swinging the bat is fun for the first few episodes (and when done right, can get you the holy grail of anime: FLCL (2000), the novelty wears off quickly. By the midpoint, I started craving something more substantial from the series. And by no means was that half-baked Jujutsu Kaisen (2018) style character (Acrobatic Sarasara) the be-all savior.

The satire, when it’s there, is sharp and witty. They’ll have you thinking they are deconstructing genre norms and poking fun at its contemporaries, only to revert into tired tropes and clichés as if afraid to commit to its own ideas. I feel manic watching the damn thing!

I’ll admit, there are moments of genuine enjoyment scattered throughout Dan Da Dan (2024). I mean, there is some charm to the absurdity of it all—but charm only gets the series so far. Without narrative coherence and a backbone to hold itself up, the series will struggle to leave any sort of impact.