‘Dandadan’ series review: The brazen brilliance of the bizarre

Dandadan review: By embracing its eccentricities, ‘Dandadan’ creates something outlandishly original and serves to remind of what anime can achieve when it dares to break the mould

Adapted from Yukinobu Tatsu’s unabashedly unhinged breakout manga, the latest fall anime sensation flirts recklessly with the freakish and the fantastic. Alien abductions, occult phenomena, cryptid hunting, and a romantic comedy collide in this glittering mosh pit of a show — the anime equivalent of a double-shot espresso spiked with something hallucinogenic. It’s absurd, audacious, and maddeningly brilliant, begging the question: how on earth does Dandadan not fall apart?

It begins, unassumingly enough, with Momo Ayase, a high schooler whose belief in ghosts is as sturdy as her disdain for UFOs, and Ken Takakura (nicknamed Okarun), her awkward classmate who holds the exact opposite convictions. A wager sets the narrative gears turning — she’ll confront aliens; he’ll tackle ghosts. Naturally, chaos ensues. Dandadan wastes no time plunging its protagonists into its crackpot world where intergalactic perverts and yokai (supernatural entities) are equally plausible threats. What follows is a frenzied ballet of paranormal pandemonium, driven by Science Saru’s trademark animation, which switches gears between hyper-stylized mayhem and breathtaking elegance.

It would be easy to dismiss Dandadan as a fast-paced fever dream, but that would be doing it a disservice. The genius lies in how it weaponizes its absurdity, using the bizarre as a vehicle for disarmingly heartfelt storytelling. The characters are gloriously layered, particularly Momo, whose sharp-tongued exterior hides a tender, fiercely loyal heart. Okarun, meanwhile, evolves from a timid conspiracy theorist to an unlikely hero, his transformation marked by a mix of self-deprecating humor and genuine courage.

This, however, isn’t a show for the faint-hearted. Within the first ten notorious minutes, Momo finds herself nearly assaulted by depraved alien menaces, which is but a taste of some disturbingly lewd moments to come. The show sidesteps exploitation by focusing on Momo’s resilience and agency, an effort that feels deliberate and, thankfully, deft. Director Fūga Yamashiro manages to preserve the discomfort of these moments without tipping into gratuitous territory.

Science Saru animates every frame with a frenetic energy that feels borderline irresponsible. The show plays with monochromatic palettes and bursts of neon, using colour filters as narrative devices to distinguish spectral battles from alien encounters. An early sequence unfolds in near-greyscale, climaxing in a blaze of crimson that practically singes the screen. Later episodes lean into bold greens and electric blues in an unsubtle but intoxicating visual language.

The animation is dazzlingly unhinged, swaying between operatic and slapstick. One moment, Momo is battling the horde of lecherous aliens (whose design manages to be both grotesque and hilarious); the next, she’s seen endlessly gnawing on crab meat with relentless vigour.

This tightrope walk of moods is where Dandadan is at its most audacious. Take Turbo Granny, for instance — a fiendish yokai-turned-stuffed-cat with an affinity for inappropriate one-liners and a snack-time fixation on wieners — she’s as hilariously off-putting as she is genuinely unnerving. The humour, pitch-black and razor-sharp, slices through the tension just when it’s about to boil over.