It had already been leaked that Dandadan was a split cour long before the official announcement today. And it would have been in zero doubt anyway – this series is a big enough hit that it seems likely to get a full adaptation. Nevertheless it’s nice to have a confirmed date (Summer 2025). For my purposes this also confirms that the series is ineligible for the 2024 top 10 list, though I can tell you it would have cracked it if it had been. I’d also put the odds that 2025 is a weaker anime year than ’24 at about 95% based on series announcements to date, and given what I know of what the second cour will cover it’ll be a pretty huge shock if it’s not on next year’s list.
I glomped onto Dandadan as a breakout hit pretty much from the first chapter. It was clear this series had it, whatever that quality that makes series huge is. So that we’re here now, with it ending 2024 as one of the year’s biggest properties, is in no way surprising. But it’s notable that the anime is, for me, clearly better than the manga. At least I enjoy it more. I felt like the manga started getting repetitive pretty quickly, though I always enjoy it. But the anime is so clever and highlights the best elements of the manga so brilliantly that I find it never takes that turn (at least not yet).
Choosing to end the season this way is a bit cruel, even with the second cour set. It’s quite a cliffhanger, but this series is pretty much nothing but cliffhangers. It’s one burst of insanity after another, interspersed with surprisingly deep character moments. While Jiji and his problem are definitely the heart of the matter, we do tidy things up with Taro and Hana first. The kids beg Seiko to allow Hana to stay at the house (she’s predictably irritated), while Taro promises to go back to being a chemistry room teacher’s aide as long as he can sneak out at night for some red-hot mannequin-to-womannequin action. He has a bit of an issue on the way to say the least, but in the end the pair of them are happily snogging as Momo snoozes away.
Okarun is seriously stressing out about Jiji and Momo, and you can’t blame him. Jiji – while he’s definitely bonkers – is much better-endowed than Ken with the qualities prized by the superficial female teen. Fortunately for Ken Momo is anything but such a teen, but it’s hard to see the pair of them so free and easy together and believe that. It’s obvious to an outside observer that Ken has absolutely nothing to worry about, but he can’t see the forest for the trees. His insecurity is extremely deep-seated, and his attempts to distract Momo from the new boy toy (“Lint!”) are pretty hilarious.
Seiko sends Momo to Jiji’s house for the weekend to try and exorcise whatever it is that’s occupying his family house. But it’s obvious that Jiji’s tormentor is not bound by the limits of that location. Momo assures Okarun that she always intended to invite him along, and the three of them cut loose on the train as Okarun grows more and more desperate. But in the end he and Jiji bond over UMAs, and Okarun is forced to admit that Jiji is actually not a bad guy. He just doesn’t have an off-switch.
At the house Momo freaks out Ken by turning on the TV, but senses absolutely nothing out of the ordinary. But she’s not calling Jiji a liar – she concludes that whatever is haunting the place is hiding, and will show up along with the night. With that she happily heads off to the onsen, promising to be back in time for any uninvited guests requiring intervention. She also intends to give the two boys time to bond, which for Jiji means kicking the soccer ball around (not Okarun’s strongest suit). These two yearling bucks are definitely in rutting season where Momo is concerned (if there were any doubts about Jiji’s feelings this dispels them). But you always get the feeling the pair of them are too nice for things to ever really get ugly.
Ugly is exactly how things get for Momo, though. Turns out the bath she’s chosen is a konyoku, a mixed-gender bath (they’re still common way up in the mountains). Soon enough she’s descended upon by a group of middle-aged men, which would be terrifying enough for a 16 year-old girl in such a situation even if it wasn’t obviously that there was something seriously off with these “crocodiles” (wani – yes, that’s what they call them). And a new wing has mysteriously appeared on Jiji’s house, clearly not the work of any contractor.
With that, we settle in for a six month wait for the second cour. There’s plenty of material for that and more so I imagine this is a concession to Science SARU’s production schedules more than anything. If they can maintain this level of quality that’s certainly fine with me. I haven’t been the biggest fan of SARU’s TV work, but this is an order of magnitude better than any that’s come before it. It’s an outstanding adaptation on every level, brilliantly communicating the charms of the manga in ways completely different than the manga does it. Sometimes a hit deserves to be a hit, and Dandadan is clearly one such time.
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