Isaac Hale proves he’s man enough to review girl’s manga by teaming up with me to post a new edition of On the Shojo Beat. In this installment, we look at three books: the final volume of Absolute Boyfriend, the first volume of B.O.D.Y., and the final volume of Yurara. –Katherine Dacey

Absolute Boyfriend, Vol. 6

By Yuu Watase
Viz, 200 pp.
Rating: Older Teen

The great temptation I have faced in reviewing the sixth and final volume of Absolute Boyfriend is to not simply quote it and let it speak for itself. Trust me; any review I could have made is not as damning, or as unwittingly hilarious, as Absolute Boyfriend itself. Now don’t get me wrong, I dig Yuu Watase. She’s made some of my favorite series, namely Fushigi Yuugi and Ceres: Celestial Legend. When I picked up volume one of Absolute Boyfriend, I went in with high hopes: maybe it would be awesome! Maybe the characters would have personality, and Riiko wouldn’t be a self-loathing doormat. But alas, a decent manga was not to be.

To bring you up to speed with the series I bring you volume six’s “Story so far” segment word for word: “Lonely Riiko got more than she bargained for when she bought a lover figure from a mysterious website. Turned out to be a walking, talking (and kissing) android named Night. But when he gets recalled, Riiko suddenly realizes how much she cares for him. Night manages to escape Kronos Heaven and returns to Riiko, but the company sends another 01 model to bring him back. A superhuman battle ensues, and night emerges triumphant. He and Riiko embrace in the rain, promising to stay together forever”. To summarize: 1. Sex robot romances girl. 2. Sex robot leaves her. 3. Girl has multiple self-loathing episodes. 4. Robot battle ensues. 5. Random, yet obligatory, romance scene ensues. Yes. That’s the five volumes there. One part Chobits, one part all-male Bubblegum Crisis and one part Her Majesty’s Dog, with generous amounts of pure suck.

The plot of volume six is no better. For absolutely no reason, Riiko and Night finally consummate their relationship (yes, keeping it T-rated). Why they have sex now and had refrained earlier, is beyond even shojo logic. Like everything else in this series, the sex gets twisted into a pathetic plot device, and it magically repairs Night from his robot fight. “You’re back to normal!! But how?” Riiko exclaims. “Hmm, maybe it’s because we made love? Maybe my system registered me as your lover…and reset my inner circuits?” Night coyly responds to Riiko’s bulging doe eyes. Their sex reset his inner circuits and fixed his broken arm. Then they get “married.” Then in the next page the romantic competition, Soshi decides to go to Spain. Forever. After five volumes without a significant plot development, those five volumes of plot are shoved into the first 26 pages of volume six. Oh yeah, and the ending is the most stinking pile of contrived BS since Kare Kano.

The upside? Night is the hottest incarnation of Watase’s quintessential and recycled male romantic lead yet—though of course he looks 99% like Tamahome from Fushigi Yuugi. Shocker.

This volume also has a fairly mediocre short story to fill it out. Yawn.

All in all, Absolute Boyfriend has been a remarkably terrific example of just how bad shojo can be. The lessons learned within? 1. There’s no problem with middle school girls have sex with adult men 2. It’s okay to renege on the entire plot and conclusion in the last chapter 3. As long as your men are hot, who cares if they have no personality whatsoever?! If you’ve followed this series so far out of morbid fascination, check out this last volume from the library for a horror fest of epic proportions. Depending on your strength of your will you may or may not be able to actually trudge your way through it. Good bye to Absolute Boyfriend, and good riddance.

–Reviewed by Isaac Hale

B.O.D.Y., Vol. 1

By Ao Mimori
Viz, 192 pp.
Rating: Older Teen

In the first chapter of B.O.D.Y., sixteen-year-old Ryoko, a good girl who likes nice boys, declares her undying love for Ryunosuke, a seemingly reserved young man in her class. A chance run-in with Ryunosuke after school reveals that this quietly smoldering hottie is, in fact, a gigolo with an extensive clientele of beautiful older women. Though Ryoko loudly disavows him, Ryunosuke views her indignant bluster as a challenge and announces his intent to win her heart. Sounds like Dynasty for the Fruits Basket set, no? Alas, B.O.D.Y. quickly devolves into a run-of-the-mill romance in which a good girl discovers that the bad boy she thinks she hates is actually worthy of her interest. Manga-ka Ao Mimori attempts a few curveballs—introducing a second boy into the mix, for example—but is so determined to get to the Big Confession of Love scene that she forgets to develop her characters into something more than stereotypes. (She also seems to forget about Ryunosuke’s rather unsavory after school job—it’s as if she began writing a juicy blackmail story and then suffered complete amnesia mid-script.) The artwork, like the paint-by-numbers plot, leaves something to be desired. True, Mimori draws pretty boys—a skill that her core audience will not doubt appreciate—but all of her characters have the same basic face, complete with beestung lips; were it not for his glasses and artfully tousled ‘do, I might not have been able to distinguish Ryunosuke from Ryoko. The bottom line: B.O.D.Y. isn’t terrible, but it lacks the courage of its trashy convictions, settling for sappy romance instead something edgier and more fun.

–Reviewed by Katherine Dacey.

Yurara, Vol. 5

By Chika Shiomi
Viz, 192 pp.
Rating: Teen

In the final volume of Yurara, the titular character is forced to choose between the dark-haired Mei—who prefers Yurara in mousy schoolgirl mode—and the fair-haired Yako—who prefers Yurara as a sassy, butt-kicking ghostbuster. (For the record, I prefer Yurara in her latter incarnation as well; in regular-teen mode, she spends a lot of time weeping and running away from boys, i.e. being a lame-ass.) It’s not hard to understand why so many readers voiced a preference for Yako in their letters to manga-ka Chika Shiomi, as the brooding medium is less possessive and cocky than his romantic rival. But Shiomi makes a persuasive case for Mei as well, demonstrating the character’s capacity for selfless behavior. (In the previous volume, Mei earned some serious demerit points in this reader’s book for talking about Yurara as if she were a prized possession. Granted, my thirteen-year-old self would have found it Terribly Romantic that he vowed to “never let anyone else have Yurara,” but my thirty-something self… not so much.) The conclusion feels a little hasty, but ties up loose threads in a fashion that will satisfy Mei and Yako partisans alike as well as readers who view unabashedly happy endings as an affront to good gothic storytelling.

–Reviewed by Katherine Dacey