I’ve been a fan of Sanrio for as long as I can remember. Best known for its extremely cute, extremely marketable characters like Hello Kitty, My Melody, Kuromi, Pompompurin, Badtz-Maru, and more, Sanrio has released several animated TV shows starring its adorable characters over the years. Most of these shows only make it to overseas audiences via fan-made subtitles, however, so until recently, I’ve only known My Melody and Kuromi as the delightful rabbits who adorn various shirts, purses, and blankets in my home.
That changed in late July, when Netflix released My Melody & Kuromi, a 12-episode stop-motion anime focused entirely on the pair of sentient stuffed animals. I was expecting it to be cute, of course, but I wasn’t expecting to fall in love with My Melody and Kuromi’s dueling personalities. I definitely wasn’t expecting some of the show’s less kid-friendly sequences, which feature makeshift firearms and candy-person cannibalism. In other words: This show is an absolute gem. (Just make sure you watch the show in its original Japanese with English sub — as is often the case with anime, the Japanese-language version is far superior to the English dub.)
The general premise revolves around My Melody, a sweet little bunny who runs a bakery with her best friends, Piano-chan (a non-verbal pink sheep) and Flat-kun (a talkative blue mouse). Just across the street from My Melody’s bakery-slash-house is the lair of a not-so-sweet bunny named Kuromi, whose official Sanrio tagline is “cheeky but charming.” Kuromi also runs a sweets shop, but she isn’t very good at it, due in part to her proclivity for creating desserts that feature her favorite food: pickled onions. My Melody and Kuromi have a “frenemies” sort of relationship. Melody often does kind things for her, which only seem to fuel Kuromi’s envy and anger. When a baking contest is announced, Kuromi resolves to beat My Melody at any cost.
Obviously, the show is cute, but “cute” doesn’t exactly cover it. The details in its stop-motion animation are incredible, and only served to intensify the cute aggression I experienced while watching it. The characters are made of felt, and their short, round little figures contrast heavily with the lanky (and slightly creepy) forms often associated with the art form (see: Coraline and much of Tim Burton’s work). Every scene is clearly put together with immense care and filled with adorable little details, like the fact that the pink skull face on Kuromi’s hood mirrors all of her facial expressions, or how My Melody has a pre-bedtime skincare routine (including a rose quartz facial roller) despite being made out of felt. The ground in Mariland (the show’s whimsical setting) is pink, but red strawberries with green leaves still grow out of it. My Melody’s shop is always full of customers, but she doesn’t appear to charge them any money for her sweets. Mariland is basically like your Animal Crossing island if somebody kicked Tom Nook out and released all the residents from the chains of their ever-growing mortgages.
I was fully expecting the show to be cute. Cute is what Sanrio does best, after all. However, I was not expecting it to be absolutely hilarious. My Melody (referred to by her friends as “My Melo”) provides a lot of the laughs, referring to naps as “Small Sleeps” and often taking a moment to sit down and calmly sip tea to collect her thoughts, even when she’s in the middle of being threatened. But the real laughs come from Piano-chan, who — unlike most of Mariland’s peaceful inhabitants — is not afraid to kick some ass when the situation calls for it.
Piano-chan may be a sheep, but in the context of the show, she’s the GOAT (and frankly, an agent of adorable chaos). She plays music in My Melody’s bakery, sometimes strumming a ukulele, but usually manning a massive DJ booth to set the mood. In one instance, Piano-chan beats the stuffing out of Kuromi and her co-conspirators after discovering them rudely gossiping. In another, she spins a wooden bo staff to effectively turn her unicycle into a helicopter, then attacks her enemies from above. One of Piano-chan’s most iconic moments sees her going all John Wick on a horde of sentient, moldy, bat-shaped cookies while dual-wielding bottles of anti-mold spray.
My Melody & Kuromi’s only flaw is that there isn’t enough of it. The show’s first season is 12 episodes long, with each episode only running for 10 to 13 minutes. Netflix hasn’t yet announced a second season, so when you inevitably find yourself craving more My Melody content, be sure to check out the 2005 anime, Onegai My Melody (which also features Kuromi as her co-star). It’s available on YouTube for free with English subs, and the series also served as Kuromi’s debut in the Sanrio universe. (My Melody’s history is far longer, dating back to 1975 with a red hood inspired by the classic fairy tale, rather than the pink one she wears today.)
Ultimately, My Melody & Kuromi is a delightfully funny, heartwarming show that brings Sanrio’s characters to life in the most adorable possible manner. It truly has something for everyone: Sanrio devotees, stop-motion fans still mourning Tiny Chef’s cancellation, Animal Crossing players, and even John Wick aficionados will all find themselves feeling right at home with its precious animation, heartwarming storyline, and surprisingly badass combat sequences.
It’s the perfect cozy show to unwind with after a long day, or to watch as you drift off into a “Big Sleep,” as My Melody might call it.
