Instead of Excited, I felt anxious

These days, whenever a new anime adaptation is announced, I hardly feel excited. Instead, I feel anxious.

It wasn’t always like this. In the past, every new anime announcement would spark excitement in me, especially when it was an adaptation of a manga or light novel I loved. But after enduring one botched adaptation, after botched adaptation, after botched adaptation. That excitement has died, many times over. Good adaptations are rare, and truly great ones are the exception, not the rule.

Maybe I’m just getting older. Maybe my standards have risen. Or maybe, objectively speaking, the overall quality of anime adaptations has declined.

Most likely, it's a mix of all three.

At this point, even a “good enough” adaptation feels like a blessing. Expecting more? That’s like waiting for a miracle. And the bad news is. Miracles don’t come often.

It makes sense, though. Japan’s population has been declining for years, and while the number of people in the anime industry may not have dropped significantly, the pressure on them certainly has increased. More shows, tighter schedules, less time. It’s no wonder quality suffers. No artist sets out to make something bad, but at the end of the day. It's the money holders who decide what gets made and how.

As a viewer, I wish we had fewer shows with better quality. But the industry favors quantity over quality.

There are so many ways an adaptation can go wrong. Visuals are often the first I noticed.

On paper, anime today looks better than ever—at least in still frames. But just like in AAA games, everything might look fine in screenshots, but many times. Things would fall apart in motion. They technically look better, but objectively speaking. They are not better games.

One of the best examples is Kenja no Deshi as an example.

In a single frame it might look passable, but the animation—especially later in the series was abysmal. It felt less like animation and more like a PowerPoint.

At the time, I thought nothing could be worse. I was wrong. Now, we get one or two “PowerPoint” anime every year.

But bad visuals are only part of the problem. Sometimes, even though a series is not visually appealing. A good story can sometimes carry mediocre visuals. Oregairu Season 1 looked rough, but its writing gave it lasting cultural impact. The Angel Next Door is another example—modest (on later part they got rougher and rougher) visuals, but a sweet enough story to keep people engaged.

Another way anime can be botched is via the story.

Sometimes, anime enhances the source material: Frieren elevated its manga to new heights. Mob Psycho 100 had a great story, but its animation made it unforgettable. K-On! took a niche 4-koma and turned it into a timeless classic.

But when an adaptation strays too far or misunderstands its source, the result is often a downgrade.

Let’s start with something new. Mob kara Hajimaru Tansaku Eiyuutan.

Manga <-> Anime

Same name, but the manga and anime feel like entirely different works—and not in a good way. The intense battles, the epic tone—all gone. What’s left feels like just another generic fantasy anime. And since the original manga wasn’t particularly strong in story, these changes only made it worse.

Or think of The Promised Neverland Season 2. No explanation needed. Akame ga Kill took similar liberties, and paid the price.

Adaptation changes are inevitable, but some changes destroy what made the original special. For me, even something like the Naruto spoilers broke my immersion and killed my interest.

And then there’s the sound design and voice work.

“This doesn’t feel right.”

That was my first reaction to the Tearmoon Empire adaptation. The music sounded like it was composed based on a secondhand summary, not by someone who actually read the story. The vibe was off. Some tracks didn’t fit the scenes, and honestly. Not to be rude. I think the lead was miscast.

LN<-> Anime

Next up. Many times, Let This Grieving Soul Retire felt tonally disconnected from its source. It gave the impression that the production team didn’t understand—or even read—the original work. Same for Pseudo Harem. It stayed close to the manga in tone and pacing, but the background music just didn’t fit.

These are recent examples, and what’s surprising is that I never used to pay much attention to music in anime. But now? It’s hard to ignore when it pulls me out of the experience.

All of this makes it hard to feel excited when a new adaptation is announced. I’ve been burned too many times. Now, I approach every new title with caution, and my expectations firmly in check.

Which, honestly, is kind of sad.