The series is a celebration of mundane delights, and relishes in the everyday moments like not getting rained on, playing in the snow, eating a train station bento, and seeing the seasons change. It magnifies the ordinary, making it extraordinary by virtue of celebrating the small things that often feel grand.
In the end, I suppose that’s the power of the slice-of-life genre, as well as the appeal of simple, but enjoyable anime. Let’s Make a Mug Too isn’t particularly beautiful: there were a few moments that made me gasp, but for the most part, it has pretty average animation and art, though it’s all done really well, if you catch my drift. I’ll also say that honestly, Let’s Make a Mug Too has fairly generic background music, though the OP and ED go hard, and definitely make you want to go throw clay. I still frequently catch myself humming Tobira o Aketara (Open the Door), which is sung by the Pottery Quartet, because it’s such an earworm of a do-it-yourself song.
I’ll be frank: I think this episode will probably divide fans. I won’t say how exactly because I don’t know and I don’t engage with fandom in forums much, but I can imagine that folks will leave this episode feeling some emotions, whether they’re positive or negative. I think that’s fair: there’s an argument to be made as to why the girls don’t call for an aIn many ways, this is the best way for Super Cub to end. It’s a beautifully optimistic series about hope, about depression, and about the power of small acts of kindness and taking a chance. While we don’t have the novels and manga in English, I easily see myself sinking into purchasing them as soon as I can. I’m hungry for more of Koguma’s adventures, for more of her friendship with Reiko and Shii, for more of the joy of simple, mundane things like riding a motorbike and going to see somewhere new. I love mundane thrills: I live for cups of tea, for meals and travelling to a new place to see something specific. Mundane delights are so much more powerful than, say, something big and spectacular. That’s a flash in the pan, a firework in the night sky: travelling somewhere new and spending time with friends? That’s the kind of beautiful everyday memory that lasts forever. And isn’t that what Super Cub is celebrating, at its core? Friendship, and healing, and the kindness of others. Those beautiful, impactful memories that are the spice of life, that help us all find the kind of adventure we long for, be it a trip to the secondhand shop or riding bikes with your friends.
I’ll be frank: I think this episode will probably divide fans. I won’t say how exactly because I don’t know and I don’t engage with fandom in forums much, but I can imagine that folks will leave this episode feeling some emotions, whether they’re positive or negative. I think that’s fair: there’s an argument to be made as to why the girls don’t call for an adult, for why they don’t react more emotionally, for why they don’t pick up on how traumatized Shii is. I think there’s a lot to be said for why Koguma didn’t supervisor Shii in the bath, for why she didn’t maybe show a bit more mindfulness. There’s definitely things you could focus on, though I personally didn’t, both in my watch and as I was writing my review.
TI mentioned before that I didn’t want to see Koguma and Reiko have any kind of romance: I wanted to see them be two kindred souls who found a deep friendship. I still feel this, even as a devout fan of Yuri and a queer writer. There’s something beautiful about a series where female friendship is simply allowed to exist: it’s truly special that Koguma and Reiko just get to be friends without any heavily gendered tropes. Instead of having an episode where they fight, the girls simply talk things out, and communicate. Instead of jealousy, the girls uplift one another. And by episode 10, those elements have evolved to a tangible love between the girls, a connection that makes their friendship feels so intimately genuine. That deep platonic love is so evident in this episode, especially when Koguma laughs and becomes incredibly playful. After seeing Koguma as a genuinely lonely young woman, it feels utterly joyful to see her so intensely happy.