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An unfortunate consequence of the modern landscape for seasonal anime is that every anime gets some degree of coverage, and nigh-everyone has an opinion on it. As a result, it's hard to understand how good or bad a show is until you wait for the hype and heat to die down, which is usually a good reason to not watch some shows until they've finished airing.
Tomodachi Game is a textbook case of an anime that got some coverage while it was airing, but was divisive enough to make me hesitate from diving in. When I did indulge it after it was done airing... well, I found it as divisive as the comment sections made it out to be.
Death game... with a twist
Out here, we give credit where it's due. The first half of this series... was actually pretty good. It was a highly bingeable half-cour with good pacing, ample plot twists, and a strong adherence to its "friendship game" premise. As a death game inspired "thriller", differentiating itself with its main gimmick—its analysis of fellowships—was both important and effective.
Since the evolving relationships of the main cast was the main hook, the initial focus on building up the core cast without much distraction was appreciated. By drawing our focus to what was both the most important and the most unique component, a clear purpose and direction was generated, allowing the first arc to generally pull off its different setups, which were largely contingent on fleshing the characters out.
Because at its core, Tomodachi Game attempts to emulate the recently exploding death game genre without sinking into its traditional pitfalls of blank characterisation, excess carnage, and general reliance on shock factor. The different "game setups" reflect this: the effect they have and the way they're played are exclusively psychological (I hesitate to call them "intellectual").
However, in distinguishing its "games" and its overt disdain of gore, Tomodachi Game ends up embracing another broad flaw of its genre: hollow narratives.
The overarching plot is extremely weak. Events are thrown around to move us from one setup to another haphazardly, and there's little context or reason to care about anything else, be it the broader circumstances of the titular game, nor the characters' motivations. The different competitive "games" end up devouring attention and engagement, leaving you with very few shits to distribute.
Concerning the use of brains
The pace of the first half—and possibly the fact I was binging it—kept me from registering this at first, but in retrospect, the actual mind games and logic were kinda whack in this show.
Don't misunderstand, they were entertaining, on account of being unpredictable, but objectively speaking, this was only because they were rather abstract. Developments were ever so slightly "convenient" in the first half, largely because there was just too much flair in how they went down, even in scenes that would have benefited from more transparency.
Later into the series though, the developments weren't even that creative anymore. While presented as logical, most of the plans and traps relied too much on mind tricks. This might not sound like a bad thing, per se, but given that the effect of manipulations vary from person to person, contrivances became possible by simply having certain characters respond how the plot needed them to. Compared to actual, tangible strategy, this kind of writing felt lazy.
Pointer: highlight the blacked out portion to reveal spoilers.
The shift towards such contrivances was gradual but consistent. This made the second half nowhere near as interesting, particularly because the "friendship" premise was out the window, killing the series' novelty. Mind games only feel authentic when we understand the characters enough to predict or understand their reactions, but later characters were nowhere near as fleshed out. The final act (which only took a single episode) encapsulates this by being an edgy, high stakes psychological game where the MC holds everything in the palm of his hand. It's so textbook it's corny.
And for as much as I try to appreciate what Tomodachi Game did right (innovative setups, unpredictable twists, decent attempt at big-brain), there's no getting around two major flaws. Firstly, the exposition (or, in some cases, the storytelling) was absolutely atrocious.
I don't know where it started, but at some point, this series got into the habit of either info-dumping us at the beginning of every play (not even every game, every play), or giving us an unnecessarily detailed retrospective play-by-play. Neither of these are inherently bad narrative devices, but weaving these details into the actual story instead of laying it on thick before or after would have made it possible to actually remember any of that crap.
But the way these details were communicated doesn't annoy me half as much as who was communicating them.
The spectator commentary was, to me, the single worst thing about this show, and it isn't even close. I don't mind them explaining things, but their exaggerated reactions to everything are so bloody irritating... The stressed things way too much instead of letting the show demonstrate why we should care about so-and-so detail.
There was no actual synergy between any of these commentators, so it's not like their interactions were fun, begging the question why keep them around? I genuinely believe it would have made more sense to delegate at least some of the explanations to the side characters, which would've let them make their own observations, thus making them feel like active participants and thinkers in these games.
Between their hyperbolic reactions and overbearing veneration of the protagonist, these commentators almost felt like parodies of the edgiest-common denominator among seinen fans... Which would've been nice, but would've also required self-awareness.
As for the second major flaw I alluded to, that would be the characters themselves.
The stick-men and the American psycho
Earlier, I gave some credit to the focus on characterisation and relationships, which Tomodachi Game highlighted as its main gimmick. Holistically, that might have been a bit generous.
While characters are given enough attention so we might understand what they're about and how they think, this is only because their archetype becomes clear. Basically, each of the side characters can be summed up with a specific stereotype, and their actions were either solely in service to driving the plot, or were a vessel to introduce new concepts or motivations. This wouldn't have been so bad if they had more agency to follow up on what they brought to the table, but unfortunately, they're only there to move the plot forward.
Effectively, side characters get enough time that we can comprehend and predict them, but only because they're so inorganic to begin with. Their mannerisms, relationships, and interactions began to feel stiff past a point, and it never recovered from this.
Perhaps this is just me personally, but the main cast just didn't feel like a proper group of friends. There was no spontaneity or natural chemistry between them, making me question if any friends really act like this. Say what you will about the opposing team in the hide-and-seek arc, at least they had actual group dynamics.
Honestly, I thought the characters were at their best when they were vulnerable. Moments of panic and confusion drove the stakes home, and let us see more natural, empathetic aspects of their character. Tenji's starvation scenes in the second half especially stand out to me for fleshing out his character and motivation more than anything blatantly told to us.
Finally, there's the edgelord MC himself, who gets far, far too little background, even for the show's 12-episode run. Clearly, we'll learn more about him down the line, but that just leaves his actions so far without context. Without that context, he just seems unhinged and edgy.
What leaves me confused though, is the general inconsistency of his behaviour. I can't tell where his compassions ends and his ruthlessness begins, nor his actual priorities and attitude. This isn't necessarily a bad thing, if it's intentionally making us question how we should appraise him. Otherwise, well...
That said, I can't reconcile his erratic sense of tactics. There's no clear modus operandi or broader thought process across his stratagems (because if there were, God forbid we learn what his weaknesses are!), often making him seem like a deus ex machina genius that's as intelligent as the plot needs him to be.
We don't know enough about this "mysterious bad boy", nor though I believe he's necessarily a bad character. He's curious enough that you want to understand him, and his own struggle with relationships is rather interesting, but at present he's painfully incomplete. Even if certain details are withheld, there's little excuse for coming out of 12 episodes without a clear picture of the main character.
And that's really the problem: we have information, but not clarity. Whereas death game series often make the mistake of insufficient characterisation, what Tomodachi Game needs to realise is that poor characterisation isn't much better than no characterisation. Giving more time and focus to its characters doesn't automatically them good ones.
Closing thoughts
To be perfectly honest, I enjoyed this show more than I probably let on. Bingeworthy shows are a key source of anime's appeal to me, and it has been a while since I personally watched such a bingeable show. That said, for as engaging as Tomodachi Game was, it does leave a bit of a bad aftertaste.
This is a series that seems thoroughly mediocre from a distance, just another death game anime with "psychological" elements. While it clearly has some intentions to subvert, or at least exceed those dirt-low expectations, Tomodachi Game only barely stands out from its peers. And coming out of such an oversaturated genre, that isn't necessarily high praise.
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