In a world increasingly filled with CG backgrounds and poor lighting saturation, Studio Wit’s watercolor work is always soothing to lay eyes on.
Especially when it’s exploding into rainbows and shit. Welcome to The Rolling Girls. We’ve got punk rock, crocodiles, and aliens. Come for the moe, stay for literally everything else.
This show was an underdog when it aired and it’s fittingly kind of about underdogs, but it’s also about community, and even though when all of Rolling Girls’ plot points came to an uneven head the show kind of collapsed in on itself, its first 2/3 were absolute beauty, especially in regards to how it built a sense of community in each place the main quartet traveled. It also seemed to somehow up itself with each of its first four arcs. Its first signaled the start of a coming of age story with expressive hand-to-hand combat choreography, ramen-slurping battles, and Team Rocket blasting off agaaaaiiiinnnn~, and somehow each arc between then and episode 8 just got zanier and zanier. In that episode, arguably the series’ proudest moment, there were missiles and fireworks exploding while geishas and punks alike rocked out in a packed stadium through the rain to boundless applause as icons reunited for the first time in years.
Which is to say that Rolling Girls had a lot of carefree abandon in the best possible ways. A sloppy end to the series can’t forever taint the emotion this little pretty ditty conjured up in me during its finest scenes. There’s simply nothing like it, and for those parts alone, I would still recommend The Rolling Girls to just about anyone with a roaring passion for life burning inside them (or people looking to reclaim theirs). And again, that fuckin’ art. It’s beautiful. Ganbare, Rolling Girls. Ganbare.