Hataage! Kemono Michi

Kemono Michi: Rise Up

Characters

Genzo Shibata

MAIN

Shigure

MAIN

Carmilla Vanstein

MAIN

Hanako

MAIN

Misha

SUPPORTING

Kobold no Otto

SUPPORTING

Wolfgang von Craftman

SUPPORTING

Altena Elgard Ratis

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Kobold no Okusan

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Hiroyuki

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Orc King

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Claus

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Guild Master

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Kagerou

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Jiiku

SUPPORTING

Big Saigou

SUPPORTING

Macadamian Ogre

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Rose

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Maria

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Edgar

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Joanna

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Maria no Chichi

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Celes

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Orc Saigou

SUPPORTING

Waitress

BACKGROUND

Kemono Michi: Rise Up – A Wild Suplex Through the Isekai Genre

Kemono Michi: Rise Up (Hataage! Kemono Michi), a 2019 anime adaptation of Natsume Akatsuki’s manga, bursts into the crowded isekai landscape with a premise so absurdly delightful it feels like a German suplex to the genre’s conventions. Directed by Kazuya Miura and animated by Studio ENGI, this 12-episode romp follows Genzou Shibata, a pro wrestler and animal enthusiast, who’s yanked from his world during a championship match and dropped into a fantasy realm with a mission to slay monsters. His response? A defiant suplex to the princess who summoned him and a vow to open a pet shop for the very creatures he’s supposed to kill. What follows is a chaotic, irreverent, and often polarizing comedy that challenges isekai tropes while wrestling with its own identity. This article dives deep into Kemono Michi’s first season, dissecting its strengths, flaws, and unique place in anime culture without rose-tinted glasses or promotional fluff.

A Beastly Premise with Konosuba DNA

At its core, Kemono Michi is a love letter to absurdity, penned by Natsume Akatsuki, the mind behind Konosuba: God’s Blessing on This Wonderful World!. Fans of Akatsuki’s work will spot familiar threads: a dysfunctional cast, sharp comedic timing, and a knack for subverting expectations. Genzou, aka “Animal Mask,” is no typical isekai hero. His obsession with animals—humanoid “kemonomimi” or otherwise—drives every decision, from suplexing royalty to cuddling demonic beasts into submission. This singular focus sets the show apart from the glut of power-fantasy isekais where protagonists amass harems or godlike powers. Genzou’s strength lies in his wrestling prowess and unshakable moral code: harm no animal, no matter how monstrous.

The setup is a stroke of genius. By pairing a muscle-bound wrestler with a fantasy world teeming with anthropomorphic creatures, Kemono Michi carves out a niche that’s equal parts hilarious and bizarre. The first episode alone, where Genzou suplexes Princess Altena for daring to ask him to kill beasts, is a masterclass in establishing tone. It’s unapologetically silly, with a protagonist who’d rather sniff a kobold’s fur than save the kingdom. This rejection of the “chosen hero” archetype feels like a middle finger to isekai clichés, and for the first few episodes, it’s intoxicating.

The Good: Comedy, Characters, and a Furry Paradise

Kemono Michi’s greatest strength is its humor, which lands hardest when it leans into Genzou’s eccentricities. His interactions with the world’s creatures—whether taming a Cerberus with belly rubs or turning a wrestling match into a pet adoption pitch—are laugh-out-loud moments that carry Akatsuki’s signature wit. The show’s early episodes, particularly the first three, are a comedic high point, blending physical comedy (suplexes galore) with absurd misunderstandings, like when Genzou’s animal affection is mistaken for perversion.

The supporting cast adds fuel to the comedic fire. Shigure, the greedy wolf-girl, steals scenes with her sly grins and money-grubbing schemes, her tail wagging as she “finds” loot to fund Genzou’s pet shop dream. Hanako, a dragon-girl with an insatiable appetite, brings deadpan humor, while Carmilla, the perpetually abused vampire, is a walking punchline who somehow grows endearing through her suffering. These characters, while not deeply developed, play off Genzou’s mania with perfect timing, creating a dynamic that echoes Konosuba’s dysfunctional family vibe.

Visually, Kemono Michi is surprisingly competent for a debut project from Studio ENGI, a Kadokawa subsidiary founded in 2018. The character designs, especially for the kemonomimi, are vibrant and expressive, with Shigure’s tail and Misha’s cat-like mannerisms stealing the show. Fight scenes, though brief, pop with fluid wrestling moves, and the fantasy world’s aesthetic—bright, colorful, and faintly low-budget—suits the show’s playful tone. The opening theme, “Tatakae! Kemono Mask,” is a high-energy banger that captures Genzou’s larger-than-life persona, earning a spot on 2019’s anime buzzword list.

The Bad: Stumbling Over Its Own Jokes

For all its early promise, Kemono Michi falters as it progresses. The comedy, initially fresh, grows repetitive by the halfway mark. Running gags—like Genzou suplexing anyone who calls him a “beast slayer” or Wolfgang’s PTSD from being petted—lose their edge through overuse. The show’s reliance on episodic, monster-of-the-week antics undermines any sense of narrative momentum. While the manga maintains a tight focus on Genzou’s pet shop dream, the anime veers into anime-original content that feels like filler, such as a wrestling tournament that fizzles out with a pointless antagonist.

The writing is another weak link. The anime struggles to adapt the manga’s tight gag structure, often cutting punchlines short or rushing setups. One infamous example: a manga chapter builds a 17-page setup for a single joke, but the anime adapts the setup and abruptly ends without the payoff, leaving a character to lampshade the pointlessness. This sloppiness, combined with anime-original episodes that clash with the source material’s tone, makes the back half feel like a fanfiction gone awry.

Character development is virtually nonexistent. Genzou’s single-minded love for animals is charming but static, and his companions are defined by one-note traits: Shigure’s greed, Hanako’s hunger, Carmilla’s incompetence. While this suits the show’s gag-driven nature, it leaves viewers wanting more depth, especially compared to Konosuba’s nuanced cast. The lack of progress toward Genzou’s pet shop goal is another sore point; the show teases the dream but rarely shows him selling pets, making it feel more like a private zoo than a business.

The Unique: A Furry Isekai with a Wrestling Twist

What sets Kemono Michi apart is its fearless embrace of niche passions. Genzou’s vegan-furry ethos and wrestling flair are a bold departure from the sword-wielding, harem-collecting heroes of most isekais. His refusal to kill monsters, instead taming them with love (or a well-placed suplex), flips the genre’s kill-or-be-killed mentality. The show’s kemonomimi characters—wolf-girls, cat-girls, dragon-girls—cater to a specific audience while avoiding the harem pitfalls of other isekais. Genzou’s disinterest in romance, often suplexing “thots” who get too close, is a refreshing rejection of the genre’s overplayed tropes.

The wrestling angle, though underutilized, adds a unique flavor. Genzou’s moves—German suplexes, piledrivers, and dropkicks—are a spectacle, even if the animation lacks the budget to make them truly epic. The show’s self-awareness, poking fun at isekai clichés like overpowered protagonists and fawning heroines, aligns it with Konosuba but with a distinctly furry twist. It’s not afraid to be weird, whether Genzou’s sniffing a kobold or bonding with a giant ant-person who never speaks but kicks ass.

The Cultural Context: Isekai Overload and Furry Fandom

Aired in Fall 2019, Kemono Michi arrived during an isekai-saturated season, competing with heavyweights like My Teen Romantic Comedy SNAFU and Cautious Hero. Its premise stood out in a sea of generic reincarnations, but its execution divided fans. On platforms like Reddit and MyAnimeList, viewers praised its humor and originality but criticized its lack of depth and repetitive gags. Some saw it as a lesser Konosuba, while others embraced its unapologetic weirdness, especially within furry fandom circles. A 2024 Reddit thread called it a “hidden gem” for its lack of harem clichés, highlighting its cult appeal.

The show’s focus on kemonomimi taps into a growing niche in anime culture, where anthropomorphic characters resonate with fans of series like Beastars or Spice and Wolf. Yet, Kemono Michi’s comedic tone and occasional fanservice (think Shigure’s assless chaps) sparked debate. Some viewers found Genzou’s animal obsession creepy, misreading his affection as perverse, while others saw it as wholesome parody. This polarization reflects the show’s risky tightrope walk between absurd comedy and niche fetishism.

The Verdict: A Flawed but Lovable Beast

Kemono Michi: Rise Up is a paradox: a brilliantly conceived isekai that trips over its own ambitions. Its first few episodes are a comedic triumph, blending wrestling, furry love, and anti-hero antics into a fresh take on the genre. But its repetitive humor, weak narrative, and shallow characters keep it from reaching Konosuba’s heights. For fans of Akatsuki’s work or those who vibe with its quirky premise, it’s a delightful romp that doesn’t overstay its welcome. For others, its lack of depth and inconsistent writing may feel like a missed opportunity.

The show’s legacy lies in its audacity. It dares to be different, celebrating a pro wrestler’s quest to pet every beast in a fantasy world while suplexing anyone who disagrees. It’s not a masterpiece, but it’s a memorable oddity that leaves you chuckling—and maybe craving a second season to see Genzou’s pet shop dream come true. Until then, Kemono Michi remains a wild, furry ride that’s equal parts hilarious and frustrating, a beast that’s hard to tame but impossible to ignore.