Although Sanrio characters (and character goods) are popular among all age groups, there's an assumption that the animated features are for a younger audience. My Melody & Kuromi at first does nothing to challenge that idea: its first six episodes focus on My Melody's sweetness and light and Kuromi's various schemes to make her sweets shop more popular than her neighbor's. Aggressively pink and adorably fluffy, it feels like basic kids' fodder, without much appeal to an older audience.

Then things get dark. To be perfectly honest, there are hints of this darkness in the earlier episodes; at one point, it looks like My Melody's sheep friend, Sweet Piano, kills a guy (she doesn't), there's a toothy killer cupcake, and episode four touches on ideas of cyberbullying via social media. But it isn't until episode six that things truly take a turn for the alarming, when it's revealed that there's a dangerous side to Mr. Heart's help. Kuromi and My Melody are chased through a dark forest by rabid former friends with glowing red eyes, drooling mouths, and an insatiable hunger. It's the sort of scene that would have completely terrified me as a child, and it's still impressively unsettling as an adult.

And that's not even the scariest part. Episodes ten and eleven delve into forms of body horror, cannibalism, and the horrible reality that sometimes your best intentions become warped by people beyond your control, creating unforeseen traumatic consequences. Watching a character's father being eaten by his former friends in episode ten is truly upsetting. All of this is to say that if you have a little Sanrio fan in your home who wants to watch this, I'd suggest watching it with them, because there are some genuinely scary elements to what at first looks sickly-sweet.

The plot unfolds around Kuromi's one-sided rivalry with My Melody. Both bunnies run sweet shops across the river from each other, but where My Melody's is thriving, Kuromi's is a failure. Mostly, this comes down to Kuromi's lack of skill in choosing flavors; her favorite is pickled shallots, and she can't quite wrap her head around those not being great with sweet bean paste. My Melody's friends, Flat and Piano (both music terms, which is cute), want to stop Kuromi, but My Melody floats through life being good and nice, which is what leads her to freeing and taking home a strange heart she finds in the forest. Mr. Heart, as she calls him, can shower any baked good with sprinkles that change them – heart-shaped ones bring the pastry to life (cookie birds and bats, transforming cupcakes) and regular sprinkles make anything taste amazing. Unwittingly, My Melody uses Mr. Heart to attract even more people to her shop, but eventually Kuromi gets hold of it, with disastrous results.

Mr. Heart, it turns out, is part of the greater plot and serves as an ongoing metaphor. He came from a kingdom in the clouds, ruled over by a giant white bear, and he was instrumental in its downfall for two reasons, both related to his sprinkle powers: as an addiction metaphor and as an example of how overwhelming greed can backfire on people. The latter is important to the plot, as it provides both backstory and motivation for Mr. Pistachio, a mysterious green cat baker who shows up in Mariland as the judge of a baking contest both My Melody and Kuromi participate in. Mr. Heart is integral to the outcome, both in terms of how Kuromi can use him and for insight into Mr. Pistachio's motives and origins. He's less a character than a catalyst, meant to draw a parallel between Mr. Pistachio, My Melody, and Kuromi in how they use him. Mr. Pistachio and Kuromi are both motivated by greed and a desire to be the best, and for both of them, this is informed by social media and reviews. (Many bonus points to the series' use of talking blue birds to represent tweets.) My Melody isn't motivated by anything but making people happy, but despite her good intentions, her use of a magical shortcut has consequences. People often accuse Kuromi of taking the easy way out, but My Melody does the same thing, and all three animals must find ways to redeem themselves that are also true to their characters.

As I mentioned before, this takes a much darker approach in the second half. There's some genuinely upsetting imagery, and Mr. Pistachio spends the final third of the show with one of his arms eaten away by mold so that the bone is visible. How grim this is is a testament to the art and animation. My Melody & Kuromi is a stop-motion series primarily using what looks like felt dolls with polymer elements (eyes and mouths, the girls' hoods, Kuromi's and Flat's tails), and it is an absolute triumph. Smooth and creative (swirls of fiber are used to show dissolving or digging; plastic beads on a string are water in a fountain, bubbling and spraying), the show is unique and fanciful. That makes the horror aspects stand out all the more because they're juxtaposed with (and on) the charming felt figures. It's only uncanny when it deliberately wants to be and has the feel of a child's game at all times, even when it gets dark.

The audio is available in a variety of languages; I watched both the Japanese and English tracks. I preferred the English dub because it felt less cutesy and twee, with a slightly lower register for voices. Both casts do turn in strong performances, however, and it largely comes down to personal preference and whether you want the nonverbal Piano to say “mey” or “baa.” Incidentally, Piano is the scene stealer of this series, no matter what she says – the little sheep is a certified badass throughout, and her action sequence in the final episodes is fantastic.

My Melody & Kuromi has something to say without being preachy. Only part of that is about the Power of Friendship™; the bigger messages are about patience and not listening to the twittering birds with nothing good to say, as well as always having your eyes wide open to your own actions. Gorgeously animated and surprisingly dark, this may not be strictly for the little ones – but I think anyone could find something to enjoy.