Ghostly presences. Ancient evils. Flying saucers. Cattle mutilations. True love? In 2024, acclaimed animation studio Science SARU captivated audiences worldwide with its TV adaptation of Yukinobu Tatsu’s outlandish, genre-hopping comic series “Dandadan.” Season One was brilliant. Now Season Two is airing, and it’s an improvement in every way. Not only is there still lightning in this bottle, it’s brighter than ever before.
A good deal of the series’ initial charm is its commitment to a truly zany premise. “Dandadan” follows a pair of high school classmates who become fast friends: the outspoken budding spiritualist Momo Ayase, who refuses to believe in aliens, and the geeky UFO buff Ken “Okarun” Takakura, who denies the existence of ghosts. When it becomes clear that both forces are not only real but actively hostile towards humankind, the duo must juggle their new roles as impromptu defenders of Earth with their expanding personal worlds and irrepressible feelings for each other. That may sound like a lot, but the only thing more impressive than the series’ checklist of genres is that it sticks the landing. The writing is snappy without being terse and witty without trying too hard. The sci-fi, rom-com, and even horror segments all play into each other expertly. Every battle, every detour, every awkward teen moment is intimately tied with the personalities and character arcs of the cast – and they’re the real stars of the show.
Tatsu’s balls-to-the-wall, ghosts-versus-aliens B-plot is immensely fun, but character writing is where “Dandadan” truly shines. The series develops a diverse cast that practically leaps out of the screen. Every character is unique, but no one is one-note. Every single side character, from the noble-hearted possession victim Jiji to Momo’s flinty mentor, her eerily youthful Granny Ayase, is written with a good deal of smarts and a great deal of care. Each hero has their own way of tackling both supernatural menaces and the ordinary quirks of high-school life, which makes this story – ostensibly about haunted houses and UFOs – feel charmingly grounded and relatable. One gets the impression that a great deal of thought was dedicated to how real, live teenagers would react to the show’s bizarre phenomena. Even the more human-adjacent villains are written with heartstring-tugging empathy. The true centerpieces of the show’s ghost battles aren’t the malevolent specters; they’re the lovingly written backstories from when the spirits walked the earth. While the setting may be far out, it’s lively and impressively plausible thanks to the characters who inhabit it.
Above all else, however, the beating heart of “Dandadan” is Momo and Okarun’s evolving relationship. Their will-they-won’t-they (they will) dynamic infuses every scene with both squeal-worthy lovability and a feeling of authenticity that’s downright refreshing. In a medium notorious for either shunting romance to the side or dragging it out to agonizing lengths, “Dandadan” is an oasis. The protagonists are realistic and fleshed-out, meaning that despite the outré trappings, Momo and Okarun’s story rings true to the teen experience. The series doesn’t need much in the way of artifice to keep viewers on the edges of their seats; it perfectly captures all that is heady, nervous, exhilarating, and above all, real about teen romance.
While watching “Dandadan,” I’ve laughed, cried, held my breath, and punched the couch cushions on more occasions than I’d like to admit. It’s hard not to get swept up in the show’s unapologetic weirdness, but its brilliant character writing is what really keeps viewers coming back. “Dandadan” wears its heart on its sleeve with pride – and makes itself impossible not to love. 5/5
