Tetsuya Takeuchi is a beloved animator, and as it tends to happen, it’s his action work that receives the most attention. Though many do know he builds upon his characteristic articulation of acting, fewer realize how strongly he’s driven by broader interests—and how many of them happen to be concentrated in Tensei Ojisan, his well-meaning, cute debut as TV anime director.
It’s not always that you can tell how directly a lead creative’s style and interests map to the characteristics of a work they’ll be adapting. Sure, today we also published a piece about an original show born entirely out of one individual’s hobbies, preoccupations, and mindset, but creators play a much riskier lottery when they’re entrusted with stories that someone else came up with. Every now and then you’ll have an inkling that one of those prospects may be a good fit, but Tensei Ojisan appears to be tailor-made for Tetsuya Takeuchi to an extraordinary degree. If you only know him as an action animator—a field where he has earned a reputation with slick, smear-heavy close-quarters choreographies—perhaps that didn’t immediately click into place. However, real Takeuchi connoisseurs know that there have always been more sides to him; for example, as the director of the proudly inappropriate Naoko-san OVAs at ufotable, the only project he had led up until now.
A similarly irreverent, sometimes dark humor side to Takeuchi was seen across Hinamatsuri. The 2018 TV series featured him alongside his nowadays equally renowned pupil Ryo Araki as main animators, under the direction of Kei Oikawa. This partnership lasted multiple projects, proving to be quite synergistic; Oikawa excels at taking groups of misfit, eccentric characters and building a warm core within their ridiculous adventures, and the amusing humanization through Takeuchi Style animation is the sharpest delivery method he’s ever had at his disposal.
Oikawa has maintained this partnership by helping out as a storyboarder and director on multiple occasions across Takeuchi’s first show, including the charming opening sequence that they conceived together.
Regardless of what type of Takeuchi work you familiarized yourself with, there’s one aspect that never changes: his thorough articulation of human gestures. Animating people is by necessity a process of subtraction, and while that is still true of Takeuchi, the way he’ll go beyond the realm of realistic demeanor leads to very readable, emphatic acting. In dramatic contexts that manage to dial it gracefully, that clarity becomes an elegant nuance. During gags, the inherent exaggeration turns into a source of comedy. If you manage to alternate between the two, you can obtain a work as complete as the second season of Oregairu, which stands as one of the greatest triumphs of this team. You can point directly back at a scene with self-serious kids pretending to be adults (and then being confronted with their own weapons) as a taste of the inherently amusing contrast that now makes Tensei Ojisan click, while also featuring plenty of dramatic acting dripping with their thoroughly expressed emotions. Now that is genuine, much as someone within that series doubts it.
Understanding the qualities of an artist beyond the type of popular shows they’re involved with is important, and in Takeuchi’s case, so is grasping his taste. As a highly sought-after ace animator, he gets to play favorites—meaning that he’ll often work with friends, as well as with those who promise him freedom to do as he pleases. Takayuki Hirao famously exemplified both requirements when, in one of their drinking parties, gave him the chance to take push back against the status quo of anime action Takeuchi hates by storyboarding his own free-flowing fight in Kara no Kyoukai #05; while the content was very different, Hirao allowed him to act freely in Pompo-san again, showing how much he understands his desire for personal expression. Other notable companions of his, like LycoReco’s Shingo Adachi, have also made similar win-win deals with him.
What does he like, then? Takeuchi has a taste for the cute and the spicy, on top of those very specific preferences when it comes to action. He enjoys outrageous comedy, and given that he’s been active in the industry since the 90s, he belongs to a generation that anime no longer caters to regularly. Although it’s hard for a single work to fill every box, it shouldn’t be surprising that he was a big fan of Tensei Ojisan given its old-school cred and inherently ridiculous nature. The aspect that makes it such a good fit for its director, however, is the premise itself. The series takes the modern tropes of tensei and villainess stories (which is to say, to be reborn/transported into a supposedly otome game-like setting featuring a ruthless female rival) and turns it on its head by making her the protagonist—and not just that, but giving that role to an affable middle-aged man.
Tensei Ojisan‘s sense of humor and seasoned taste are also palpable in the ending, which isn’t just a cover of the timeless banger Matsuken Samba, but also incorporates many elements of its performance while remaining an original sequence. Yasufumi Soejima, another beloved creator best known for his imaginative contributions to Jojo nowadays, storyboarded and co-directed it.
Because of this setup, the series operates through contrasts and unexpected affinities between the writing and the character animation. The protagonist moves with inconceivable swagger in his original body; most notably, in a segment introducing his life entirely key animated by Araki. When in control of the villainess, who becomes the sweetest girl in an elite school by sheer accident, those mannerisms expressed through Takeuchi’s distinct approach to animation fluctuate between amusingly out of place and curiously befitting. It’s out of the question for most modern anime to even attempt to sustain their comedy through inherently funny movement, let alone for unassuming productions like this one. Fortunately, Tensei Ojisan lucked into the right director for that challenge.
When we point the finger so directly at Takeuchi, it’s not just because he was a great fit and had the right style to approach Tensei Ojisan with, but also due to his omnipresence across the production. Takeuchi storyboarded 4 episodes, and whenever he did it, the extent of his interventions were clear in the charismatic posing extending to even background characters; a trait that would sometimes bleed into episodes boarded by other people, indicating that he offered similar corrections as well. Along the way, he would come up with entirely new sequences to showcase those action preferences we talked about.
Of course, there’s much more to his redrawing than the storyboards: Takeuchi touched up the drawings and animation across the whole show, from small sequences to entire scenes that might as well only be his work. At multiple points, Tensei Ojisan makes you wonder if the series directorSeries Director: (監督, kantoku): The person in charge of the entire production, both as a creative decision-maker and final supervisor. They outrank the rest of the staff and ultimately have the last word. Series with different levels of directors do exist however – Chief Director, Assistant Director, Series Episode Director, all sorts of non-standard roles. The hierarchy in those instances is a case by case scenario. personally redrew every shot where a character shakes their head; incidentally, I lean toward the answer being yes. Mind you, this isn’t something we have to speculate about, and not only because he’s known to do uncredited work. Although he wasn’t credited for animation in episode #06, we know for a fact that the beautiful emotional catharsis in episode #06—straightforward acting made a subversion by its context—was over 3 minutes of his own animation, as confirmed by the studio and his admission that it’s his favorite scene.
After consistently deploying Takeuchi-style animation for the intrinsically funny contrast with Tensei Ojisan’s cast, seeing a genuine, straight pitch like this is very effective.
Relying on your already busy series directorSeries Director: (監督, kantoku): The person in charge of the entire production, both as a creative decision-maker and final supervisor. They outrank the rest of the staff and ultimately have the last word. Series with different levels of directors do exist however – Chief Director, Assistant Director, Series Episode Director, all sorts of non-standard roles. The hierarchy in those instances is a case by case scenario. to be so involved with all sorts of assets would normally be a recipe for disaster, but Tensei Ojisan was set up for success by a series of factors. Takeuchi’s uncanny efficiency is certainly one of them, as is the prowess of Ajia-do that we feel compelled to point out anytime the studio’s name comes up; be it in their more classic offerings like YKK or current showcases of excellence like Signs of Affection, it’s always clear that the studio’s animators (especially their incombustible veterans) have very sturdy fundamentals.
In the end, though, it’s the modulation of the ambition between the two parties that made the show a consistent visual treat without much fanfare or resources. In addition to the ornate acting that Takeuchi and Araki occasionally drop, the visuals remain compelling through crafty storyboarding and very economical, easy-to-replicate tricks to achieve feats like giving depth to the screen. In an era where the demand for blockbusters is making everyone grow louder and grander, savviness like this tastes especially sweet. I suppose that is very on point for the series as well: of course that a series enamored with older otaku favorites would remember that TV anime has traditionally thrived with craftiness over costliness.
On top of this appealing and surprisingly sustainable approach to the animation, which becomes inseparable from the humor in the series, the final point worth highlighting is Tensei Ojisan’s earnest and well-meaning nature. Or rather, it’s the first one, as that positive mindset is clear from the start. Subgenres like this one are often cynical and tropey, and subversions of their norms, arguably even more so. The entire villainess ordeal is a particularly fraught territory, because it’s based on an idea of otome games that broadly speaking doesn’t exist.
So, what does Tensei Ojisan do when faced with that realization? It correctly identifies the roots of those tropes in classic shoujo manga instead, but rather than admonishing the younger generations about the mistakes in modern trends, this becomes Michiro Ueyama’s venue to share the things that his own generation enjoyed. That incredible parody of Matsuken Samba for the ending, the swerve into Galaxy Express 999, and the highly specific taste of otaku parents aren’t aiming for an easy wink to an audience that will recognize those—Ueyama and the anime team know that a bunch of viewers have no idea what any of that is, yet they’re gleeful to share their passions regardless.
This original addition to the anime, part of Araki’s extensive prologue in episode #02, also features a loving nod to the Zoids series. After all, Tensei Ojisan‘s author was in charge of one of its manga serializations from the 90s to the early 00s. No one better than himself to draw this poster within the anime as well.
The series’ honesty extends beyond the jokes it cracks as well. It’s easy for quirky subversions to get drunk on their own irony, half-assing plenty of aspects of their writing because they find themselves to be above the works they’re riffing on. In addition to that, there’s no denying that works originating in Narou (often the case for this genre) are chronically lacking in imagination. However, this series didn’t start because Ueyama thought he could score an easy dunk on a lesser type of story, nor did he intend to cash in on a current fad. The tweet that accidentally started everything—featuring an early draft for what would eventually become Tensei Ojisan—made this wish as clear as possible. If it were to exist, this would be the type of villainess manga he’d personally enjoy reading. And since that resonated with others, he went ahead and created it.
Given that he genuinely wanted to experience this type of story, it should be no surprise that his approach ended up feeling surprisingly thoughtful. Despite not all that much attention being drawn to it, aspects like the setting stand out in that regard. The gamification of fantasy in otaku properties has been tragic; titles often flounder to the point of neither feeling like interesting games, nor having the type of curiosity and imagination that are intrinsically tied to the concept of fantasy. While I believe the issue to be worse in more dansei-muke circles, the fact that villainess works are quite literally tied to videogames tends to make their worlds samey and uninteresting. Although Ueyama didn’t intend to create the most complex setting either, details like its magic system built upon the power of words feel inspired for the genre. Without being revolutionary, they’re an easy step above the norm, and Ueyama’s writing chops show in how the narrative builds fun, small conflicts around such ideas.
That much is evident in the final arc covered by the anime. Another aspect that can be awkward to navigate for Narou-style works is how to introduce tension when the protagonist is comically overpowered, but Tensei Ojisan finds an amusing way to turn that on its head. While its protagonist is indeed gifted by the heavens—also comically so, in the sense that it’s very funny about it—it’s the same rules that are normally placed in her favor that betray her in a low-stakes, compelling final scenario that feels true to the series’ message. In short: when the laws of the world itself make you into the most perfect refined lady, having to perform a play where you become a humble civilian is a trial worth ending the entire show with.
By now, Takeuchi’s next project is well underway. That one will be a return to the type of work that earns him broader recognition, and despite the heavier responsibility, I’m convinced that he’ll find a way to twist the action into the type that he enjoys the most. Chances are that it still won’t be as perfectly fitting to his broader sensibilities as this was, but I get the feeling his thorough work in Tensei Ojisan will have left him satisfied for a while—enough to tackle a high-profile hit. But before that arrives, you still have time to give his TV anime direction debut a spin; and his actual directorial debut Naoko-san too, if you’re brave enough. Between Ueyama’s fun ideas and the director’s omnipresent, very attractive pen, at the very least Tensei Ojisan is an easy recommendation.
Although completing the Takeuchi bingo would have involved some raunchiness too, the director said that despite being a late-night series, he approached Tensei Ojisan as a wholesome series we might enjoy with the family during mealtime. He finished by stating that he’d be happy if he accomplished as much, and we can confirm that he absolutely did.
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