Maebashi Witches is a “just trust me” anime. The premiere is much clumsier than I would like, and to be frank with you, I bounced off it when I first watched it. Among the chaotic mélange of a motormouth heroine, wisecracking mascot, local Maebashi landmarks, bizarre aesthetic maximalism, and the strange idol pop centerpiece, I couldn't find a foothold. Nevertheless, trusted friends continued to watch it, and week after week, I heard crescendoing praises for this convoluted coven until I relented and returned to their interdimensional flower shop. I am now here to pay those praises forward. Just trust me: you need to watch Maebashi Witches.

The first thing you need to understand about Maebashi Witches is that it's a magical girl series in the classic sense of the genre. Instead of sublimating contemporary anxieties into a monster-of-the-week ripe for the beating, the Witches tackle society's problems directly through the power of magic and music. In other words, it has more in common with Minky Momo than with Madoka. That doesn't mean it's bereft of 21st-century self-aware humor, and Keroppe, the shady froglike mascot, is consistently the biggest offender on that front. However, he becomes much more bearable once the Witches learn to wring his nonexistent neck every week.

The real secret sauce of Maebashi Witches is that it fearlessly tackles thorny topics with an uncommon degree of sensitivity. The pleasant yet platitude-heavy premiere didn't prepare me for the following arc, in which Azu refuses to help a plus-size model because she, in her words, “hates fat people.” That's the first of many jaw-dropping cliffhangers, and it makes sense when we find out next episode that Azu herself is overweight and has been using magic to appear thinner inside the witch realm. Her classmates bully her, and she, in turn, internalizes their fatphobia. Meanwhile, we also see how Rinko, the model, is pigeonholeed, belittled, and demeaned in her profession. Anime as a whole does not have a great track record when dealing with fat characters, so it's especially refreshing to behold when the climactic song concludes that Rinko should pursue modeling the badass fashion styles she wants. It's not a trite PSA about health or losing weight. The show treats her and Azu as three-dimensional human beings, and it blames their issues squarely on the bad attitudes and microaggressions from their peers.

I could gush about every arc to this extent (and more), but I don't want to spoil everything about a show that I consider a hidden gem. I just know, from my experience, that the deft handling of Azu and Rinko's story convinced me to watch the rest of the series, and I hope my summary of it can do the same for you. I can, however, give you a taste of what else to expect. A non-exhaustive list of topics broached by Maebashi Witches includes: influencer culture, bullying (online and offline), poverty, gender nonconformity, parasocial dependence, VTubers, internet predators, burnout, and living in society. Moreover, none of these cases feels too sensationalized. The series is a frank interrogation of the myriad anxieties and dilemmas facing adolescent girls today, dolled up in a fashion-forward girly-pop aesthetics and cushioned with a quirky sense of humor.

Maebashi Witches, for all of its ambition, doesn't overreach either. It's radical yet realistic. The keystone to the show's ethos comes from Yuina when she says, “But there are some things that can be solved without solving them.” That oxymoronic motto sums up the show's appeal better than I could. You see, the titular witches are witches-in-training. Their magic isn't omnipotent, and they deal with problems that often don't have perfect solutions. The writing recognizes the limits of their powers as people, women, and teenagers participating in and beholden to complicated systems outside their control. Nevertheless, it also recognizes the value in doing what they can do. The anime is at its strongest when it focuses on tiny acts of alleviation born out of the girls' love for each other.

Themes aside, the nuts and bolts of the narrative are solid, too. You get the broad strokes of each character up front, and the remainder of the show digs into what makes them tick beneath the surface. In other words, I know the five girls appear very archetypal and tropey at first, but by the end of the show, I cared about each of them and appreciated their group chemistry. Even Yuina, the airheaded main heroine, possesses subtle depths. Additionally, the show pairs each customer's problem with one or more of the girls; it isn't afraid to eschew that structure when necessary, and there's a healthy bounty of interpersonal drama to go around. I must also reiterate the power of some of these cliffhangers. They hit like haymakers.

Appearance-wise, Maebashi Witches is more of a mixed bag. The clashing aesthetics grew on me, and the show has a good eye for fashion. This is nowhere on the level of a GoHands crime. However, the character designs are unremarkable—it's the character writing and voice acting that pick up the slack as far as the main five go. This is yet another show with 3DCG idol performances, too, so your mileage may vary there. As a whole, the concert scenes are a fun and artsy encapsulation of Maebashi Witches' aesthetic ethos, and each one takes its visual liberties in a different direction. Unfortunately, I don't think the songs themselves are as adventurous. To my ears, they're standard idol fare, although they benefit a lot from their lyrical connections to the themes of each episode

On that note, I'm thankful that Crunchyroll's translation includes the song lyrics, because they're paramount to these arcs and their denouements. And overall, the anime benefits from a strong localization effort. Character voices are distinct and do a good job of selling their girls' personalities. I also like how it treats some of their teenage slang, such as Yuina's constant invocation of “vibes” (which is エモい in Japanese). I don't know if that's how kids her age talk nowadays, but I found it amusing.

My main critique is that Maebashi Witches could have gone even further with its progressive political views. Rinko, for instance, calls her wife in a pivotal scene, and Kyoka later hints that she doesn't like being pressured by her family to act more like a girl. These are great details that feel casual in their inclusion, but I would have loved for the show to explore its queerness more directly. In the final few episodes, it also backs away from some of its nuances in favor of more concrete conclusions. I wouldn't call these faults, though; they're consequences of my high estimation and expectations. The writing leaves the door open for a sequel as well, and I would love to see a second season that is even weirder, louder, and more daring.

Maebashi Witches is a classic magical girl anime for the modern age. Despite rough first impressions, it charmed the heck out of me. I doubt it'll ever break into the anime mainstream, but it will be remembered fondly for a long time by the people who did watch it, and I highly encourage you to join us.