I just finished the last volume and definitely agree that the quality of the last few volumes was pretty uneven, sometime just plain bad. The ending came across as gratuitous ("Greatest manga ever in Jump!") and contrived. Just getting through the last volume was a chore.
Souleye - PPPPPP - Potential for Anything 3DS FC: 2621-3105-8671
You have some fairly good points. I agree about Shizuka being disconnected from the others, and also didn't like Nanamine being rehashed as an antagonist the second time; perhaps it would have been better to see what he learned since last time and build himself up with his own efforts and Kosugi's help.
On the other hand, I liked the finale. It's a nice bit of Reality Ensues given that Mashiro and Azuki have been in the public spotlight for a while, particularly given that while Fukuda's completely spot on in his calling out the fan backlash, it's also Not Quite the Right Thing. I also think that Shiratori had a fairly compelling subplot that essentially exposed the Elephant in the Room in Mashiro and Takagi's partnership- they have different goals, and that PCP works for Takagi's goals (as a successful manga) but not for Mashiro's (as a manga that will never get an anime).
Unfortunately, this review (along with MANY others) hits one of my pet peeves about reviews. While it doesn't necessarily spoil everything, it does describe parts of the work in terms that the uninitiated won't understand (e.g "around the time PCP gets started" as opposed to Volume 10 out of 20) and makes references to characters those who are looking into the series know next to nothing about. As a result, it comes off as easier to understand to those who, like me, have already read it than those who are trying to decide whether to invest their time and money into it, thus making it less helpful to the latter group.
Regrettably, I didn't read it in trade form. But that's a simple-enough fix.
I see where you're coming from in that final bit of criticism. Unfortunately, I'm not sure how to fix it. I've attempted to recommend it to the "new reader," but doing so without mentioning later problems would feel dishonest. And simply cutting all of them out would be extremely vague and non-useful.
Ultimately, I used it mostly as a way to sort out my own feelings on the work rather than as a guide to potential new readers. I suppose you're right and that's probably not the best way of doing things.
Made a few more edits too. This review, after all, was written in a pre-that-one-thing-we-don't-talk-about world.
SpectralTime,
Personally, I find that a lot of the later problems people identify in any given series are not only a matter of personal opinion, but also a result of reader reaction to the series as a result of their opinions over the course of it. For example, their finding a character overused may be a result of disliking said character, or their belief that the work inspires Darkness-Induced Audience Apathy may be a result of preferring the lighter parts of the work. These opinions may be well-founded or popular, but it's difficult to say whether someone else would get as invested in those aspects of the series, let alone come to the same conclusion.
Essentially, it's all well and good to express and/or sort out your feelings on a work in a review, but it's more useful to new readers to talk about the series as a whole rather than specific points (which are what the "arc" and "season" review types are for).
Those changes are improvements, helping make it informative to the uninitiated reader while also keeping it specific. What exactly is "that-one-thing-we-don't-talk-about", though?
...A certain fan-based mass movement that's a banned topic of discussion on this wiki, that's managed to be generally vile and horrible enough to sour my opinions on the fan side of the "fan vs. creator" dispute.
Centered around the medium of gaming, you know?
Also, I generally agree with you. I find most reviewers complaining about the 400-word limit are *really* complaining about not being able to post their every little peeve and nitpick with a series in a giant bloated list.
I generally do try to avoid that, or to use each example to illustrate a broader point. I admit that this review is a bit too much like a "whine list" though. Just... hope it helps anyway, because if I erased all of those, I'm not sure what I could replace them all with.
I found Bakuman to be fascinating the whole way through. The only character I disliked was Nakai.
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Quick out of the gate, fades in the stretch, finishes off behind but with head held high.
Bakuman, to me, can be divided in half.
The first half is very strong, particularly if the process of manga creation interests you. It has fun characters and a strong "metafictional" vibe. One can easily be sucked into the plight of these two underdog creators and their struggle to get by. Any breaks from the "central" story are at least well-tied into it, and their effects on the broader "world" of the mangaka community are shown.
Unfortunately, around the time they finally get a major success started, things start going downhill. A previously-cohesive story begins to fragment into a series of short, stuttering arcs. One artist, Shizuka, is often mentioned but never steps out of the background or impacts the story in any way. An assistant's uninteresting solo career takes center stage for a while to create contrived drama within the main cast and then is never heard from again before a brief mention in the finale. Nanamine makes a strong first impression as a uniquely antagonistic character, and his first story arc is fairly well-handled, if brief, but the second is just a poor rehash of the first, negating the Character Development he seemed to go through at the end and leaving him much more one-dimensional.
Not all of these arcs are bad (two fellow creators' slowly-blossoming relationship is a standout), but most of them are pointless, failing to serve the broader plot or alter the status quo. Many could be outright skipped before the finale. One gets the impression that the creators were running out of ideas, throwing mud at the wall to see what stuck, and finding little did. The growing cast probably didn't help either, and juggling them all was probably becoming a bit of a chore, with many potentially-interesting characters, like one-time rival Iwase and previous-assistant-turned-creator Takahama, simply fading into the background.
The finale is a little cheesy and preachy on the subject of fandom overreach, but it does wrap things up well enough, resolving the central conflict and giving the characters their storybook ending. And, years after the fact, the lesson that fans should learn to accept that artists don't belong to them has only become more resonant.
I'd still recommend it, but caution readers that Seasonal Rot is definitely a thing. It's a quality read, but that quality isn't always even.