Love this show but...

While I love the animation, the voice acting, soundtrack, and a few other things, I feel like the story is too repetitive and shallow.

For example, somehow find OP boss character, nearly lose, then somehow figure out a way to beat it. Have an episode or two where they actually live relatively normally, then repeat. And every so often introduce a new character that is annoying or gets in the way of momo and okarun as you said.

I most likely won’t be watching the third season if this continues.

Zoomers discover writing structure. More news at 11.

@FreedomKME That's the problem. This show doesn't have a structure. In lieu of an actual narrative, it repeats the same plot beats over and over, except each time it gets more boring and insufferable. New plot threads are created, toyed with for an episode or two, and then discarded at the drop of a hat without any development or resolution. The result is that relationships stagnate and what little character growth there is feels contrived and unearned.

Like seriously, what are we doing. Are you really trying to argue that this show is "too smart" for zoomers? Because that would be laughable, if so.

@SSL443
there is a structure. it's an episodic romp of multiple self-contained adventures loosely tied together by the objective of finding okarun's balls. Each arc either progress that goal or introduce characters and concepts that gets integrated into later arcs.
Just because you don't like the narrative structure, doesn't mean it doesn't have one.

@cobcob11x I don't buy the "episodic romp" defense. Sure, technically the show is structured around a series of arcs, but that basically describes most shows. The bigger issue is not the structure or lack thereof, but the fact that the structure in season two doesn't serve its themes.

Season one had a similar rhythm, but it established a strong thematic foundation around the human connections and emotional growth being forged by the episodic events. That was what made the show work.

Season two has lost that. The Evil Eye arc lasts the better part of the season, but it yields very little development in the cast. It mostly loops on the same beats that were novel in season one, and now feel repetitive.

"It'll matter latter" doesn't excuse a lack of payoff in the moment. Good execution pays off immediately in theme and character, even if the larger plot point resolves later. They key is establishing those longer through-lines thematically and balancing them versus the immediate story.

If you want an example, look at Frieren. Serie appears multiple episodes before becoming directly involved in the current arc, yet her appearance has immediate thematic implications that advance Frieren as a character. She doesn't just appear for the sake of being integrated later.

Dumping new things into a story is just bloat if it doesn't immediately deepen the core. Even if the plot points don't resolve right away, they need to push things forward. If conflict dominates half the runtime and still leaves the cast mostly spinning their wheels, its fair to call that weak execution, not long-term setup.

@SSL443
That's not a defense. It's the objective fact. That's the narrative structure of the series.

Also no, there's no literary constitution that dictates a good execution requires an immediate payoff and no, season 2 has it's own interesting exploration of characters different from season 1. and even if it didn't, it warrants enough merit for it's fun factor.

@cobcob11x That’s the problem. Season two isn’t actually different from season one. It’s rehashing the same beats: spirit with sadge backstory, someone's possessed, Okarun wants to get stronger. That's the definition of repetition, its why people are complaining about the sameness of the show.

These are the same non-arguments that always get trotted out to defend bad writing. No, of course there isn’t a “law” for what makes good writing. But generally the things people find compelling follow certain patterns: escalation that changes characters, conflicts that leave lasting marks. Season one proved that. It showed this series could be more than just noise.

Season two swaps that for what... louder setpieces? That can be fun in a vacuum, sure, but fun alone isn’t enough when the show itself already proved it could deliver more. That’s what was lost, and where the real differences lie.

@SSL443
These are the same non-arguments that always get trotted out to defend bad writing. No, of course there isn’t a “law” for what makes good writing. But generally the things people find compelling follow certain patterns:
"Generally", not always. And yet, the season 2's (and the manga's) continued success proves you wrong.

The problem is you're looking for a stereotypical shounen narrative progression on a series that already proven itself to not wanna follow such a thing, and you're lambasting the series for it. You list the beats that it repeats but don't realize the nuances that tie all them together is what matters, not the beats itself.

Each arc, again, already serves it's simple theme of helping each other out and those that don't necessarily overtly contribute to it more than makes up for it by adding fun setpieces or new characters to bounce off the cast. And with each arc building on top of some of the stuff that has come before, it's no wonder people find it fun. And yeah they do, because just look at how successful the series is.

@cobcob11x Are these nuances in the room with us?

What I'm describing is not "stereotypical shounen narrative." If anything, its the opposite.

If the best you can say for season two is that the arcs circle a “simple theme of helping each other out,” you’re just proving my point. Season one was much more than that. Each arc meaningfully developed its characters, redefining their role in the group and the story: the conflicts with Turbo Granny and the Serpoians reshaped both Momo and Okarun, and Aira’s backstory with Acrobatic Silky was similarly impactful.

As you seem to intuitively grasp, season two rehashes these gestures without adding anything new, which is exactly why people are complaining about sameness. Twelve episodes later, Momo and Okarun are still navigating their relationship with the same hang-ups, Jiji remains a tension-inducing third wheel, and Aira is barely more than that. The new additions have failed to alter the cast in any lasting way: Evil Eye devolves into a goofy caricature, while Kinta echoes Aira as another abrasive eccentric, but with a shallower and more insipid backstory. The result is a cast that ends where it started.

And success isn’t proof of quality. By that logic, anything that sells well is automatically beyond criticism. People enjoying something doesn’t erase the flaws in how it’s written; it just means the spectacle is carrying it for some viewers. That’s fine, but it doesn’t mean the writing suddenly works.

The difference is that season one wove its setpieces into growth and consequence. Season two treats them a point unto themselves. If the “nuances” you’re claiming don’t actually change the characters or deepen the theme, then they’re not nuance at all. That’s why some viewers are left unsatisfied, despite the "fun."

@SSL443


I don't see how this is an inherent problem in writing, especially in a very long running series like this. A character doesn't necessarily have to undergo a change for any individual story to be good. They just need to be able to carry a strong role in the story and/or bounce off of each other and the story's event in a way that's entertaining. Change can happen in slow ways overtime. In fact, this is a common format for many episodic works of fiction.

And there have been a lot of characters in history with flat arcs that remained successful in being incredible characters. For instance, one of the most acclaimed characters in fiction is Toph bei-fong from avatar and she barely changed throughout the series.
I'm not saying that changes must not happen or that it will not happen later or not having change can't be bad. Just that the lack of it doesn't automatically equate to an story having dysfunctional writing.

And even then, i think you're conflating character development with character arcs, because there's still ways characters are developed even without changing them. For instance, many people hated Jiji when he was introduced but it was in this arc where a lot of people turned around into either being receptive to him or even into loving him. Not because he changed, but because the audience simply were exposed to more aspects of his character and and the extent of his heroism.

Your weird obsession with change is not letting you see why a lot of people love this series. A nuance doesn't stop being a nuance just because it doesn't change a character. I'll give you an example with one that you provided. You said that S2 rehashes the part where "okarun wanted to get stronger".

But here's the thing:
In S1, Okarun wanted to become stronger because of a vain attempt at impressing momo, which leads to him training squats and push ups in secret leading to a misunderstanding leading to a danger of a rift in their relationship that they have to sort out. That alone in itself is great but then S2 decided to further payoff this storyline by making one of okaruns signature move literally just his squat motion.
In S2, Okarun wanted to become stronger because of failing to protect momo, which leads to an entertaining mini training arc, which leads to okarun being able to become strong enough to strike a compromise with evil eye.

In both cases, the inciting incident/reason, the methodology, the payoff/result and the way they progress the story were all different and yet, you hyper focused on the simple notion that it's "okarun wants to get stronger", divorcing it from any of the nuances of how these 2 situation differ, and starts lambasting the series for it? Not to mention this is in a "I wanna get stronger" subplot, which is one of the core staples of a shounen protagonist. I think that's nonsense.

@cobcob11x

It’s true that characters don’t need to change constantly for a story to be effective. Flat arcs can work, and sure, Okarun’s squat gag evolving into a signature move is a fun bit of continuity. But this is exactly where season two falters. The “nuances” you point to are surface-level; they look like progress without actually shifting the dynamic between the characters, which is what gave season one its spark.

The irony is that your defense pulls in two directions. On the one hand, you say flat arcs are fine, which would mean season two is essentially static. On the other, you say season two isn’t static at all, that the “nuances” prove it’s evolving. If the best examples of this evolution are things like Okarun’s squat motif or a reframed training montage, then you’ve already conceded my point: they’re cosmetic shifts that don’t alter the relationships or stakes in a meaningful way.

Season one’s training beat mattered because it was tied to the larger coming-of-age theme: Okarun’s insecurity about Momo carried relational consequences, feeding into the show’s focus on identity through connection. Season two reframes it as Okarun wanting to protect Momo, but the loop is the same: he feels powerless, trains, gets stronger, and by the end of twelve episodes, nothing fundamental has changed. Momo and Okarun are still circling the same hang-ups, Jiji is still a third wheel, Aira is sidelined.

Even if you grant Okarun’s ability to fight Evil Eye as “growth,” the execution undercuts it. The setup drags out far longer than the payoff justifies, and the constant defusing of stakes (like the Ayase home being immediately rebuilt with nanoskin) strips away consequence. That’s why it reads as a stat bump rather than actual development. In shounen especially, the gap between the protagonist and their obstacle is what drives drama; if escalation never leaves a mark, it becomes empty spectacle.

And on Toph: she’s not really a flat-arc character. Her stubborn confidence stays intact, but she grows in real ways: breaking from her parents’ control, inventing metalbending, maturing into a teacher and leader, and realizing her friends cared for her because of genuine connection, not obligation. She also catalyzed growth in others across the story. That’s what lasting nuance looks like. By contrast, Evil Eye and Kinta don’t reconfigure the ensemble’s trajectory; they just add new textures to the same wheel-spinning.

@SSL443
Again, all your argument hinges on some kind of weird writing law that says "there must be always be a fundamental change somewhere otherwise it's crap". That's a terrible mindset to consume an episodic series with, especially a series running as long as dandadan, where the anime isn't even halfway through where the manga is now.

I didn't use the nuances to prove that there's some kind of fundamental change happening. It used it to say that reusing a plot element from the previous arcs isn't necessarily a bad thing, especially when it's used in different and/or effective ways. The thing about okarun's "becoming stronger" trope in this arc is that it's not the point of the arc. It's just one of it's working elements. There's no "setup to it" that drag because the arc isn't a setup for it. Similarly with the stakes. Ayase home being destroyed is just the gag, the stakes is whether or not they can find a solution fast enough before evil eye ends up killing someone in the house, and it's a strong enough stake to drive the story.

At the end of the arc, did any of the characters fundamentally change? No. Does it matter? Not really. The arc told a compelling story of a group of people standing up a cursed Jiji instead of taking the obvious easy way out. And as a result of all these events, we have Jiji set to some kind of spiritual training (where he wouldn't have otherwise), we have a transforming house, and we have a potential ally in the future in evil eye. It didn't shift the character dynamic, but it's not like it didn't add anything new or made good use of its characters.

When you have strong characters with strong enough character dynamics with each other, and you can tell compelling stories utilizing them, you don't have to always fundamentally change them constantly. At least, not immediately, especially if you have such a long running series. You can do it slowly overtime. You can even develop characters in little ways without fundamentally changing them (like with Jiji as I mentioned earlier). There's so many ways you can structure a narrative without constanty shifting character dynamics and still make it work and you're too hung up on that one tool a writer uses.

With Toph, almost all of her "development" happened within the first few episodes that she's introduced into the series. After that? Not much. She invented metal bending a bit later in S2, and then that's pretty much it. Her character's role is solidified for the rest of the series.
Similarly, a lot of change happened in dandadan S1 not just because of narrative but also because it's ultimately a setup for what the baseline of the series' character dynamics would be. And the audience understands that.

@cobcob11x You’ve misread my critique. I’m not insisting on an arbitrary “law” where stories must reinvent their characters at every turn. Rather, I’m addressing why the OP and others feel this season suffers from sameness and stalls Momo and Okarun’s progress. It goes through motions that look like progress (training sequences, new powers, reframed motivations) but then undermines the payoff. That’s the distinction. My argument isn’t “season two is stagnant, therefore it’s bad.” It’s that the key arcs are executed poorly, so the season feels repetitive. What’s on trial here isn’t the presence or absence of change, but whether the story delivers proportional stakes and lasting consequences.

Take your own example. You say the arc was compelling because the group stood up to a possessed Jiji rather than taking the easy way out. That’s a fair premise; but if the climactic stakes are whether Evil Eye kills one of the group, and their house itself is restored as a gag, the tension evaporates instantly. The destruction of the Ayase home could have been a symbol of what’s at risk for their found “family” if they fail to contain Evil Eye. The reduction of this symbol to a gag, as you admit, is emblematic of what is wrong with this season. If the named stakes are life-or-death, but the resolution is a tonal reset with no lasting cost, viewers learn the show won’t mark those claims; the next “life-or-death” beat carries less weight. When every problem is solved by a gag or reset button, stakes don’t matter, and the arc comes off as pointless and repetitive.

There’s also a contradiction in your defense. On one hand, you point to Jiji’s training and Evil Eye as a potential ally. On the other, you argue this doesn’t shift the character dynamic. Which is it? By that logic, Aira and Acrobatic Silky didn’t shift the dynamic, Turbo Granny didn’t shift the dynamic, and so on. It’s the same thing as trying to argue that nothing is changing, while simultaneously claiming that reused plot elements are being deployed “differently.” Reuse can work when the new deployment reframes relationships or raises lasting costs. Here, the deployment is evacuated of consequence, which is why it reads as noise rather than effective echo. If those developments don’t matter to the dynamic, that gives further credence to the complaints in this thread. If they do matter, then you’ve conceded they’re changes. Either way, you can’t claim the show is both static by design, because its long-running, and also steadily evolving through “nuances.” That’s arguing in circles.

You also say the arc doesn’t drag because Okarun’s training “isn’t the point.” Yet the season devotes repeated beats to it, and it functions as the linchpin that makes hosting Evil Eye possible. If screen time and plot dependence don’t count as setup, what does?

And here’s the bigger issue: your “it’s just setup” line tacitly concedes the complaint. If every arc is just baseline-establishing for something further down the line, then of course people are going to point out the lack of payoff in the present. You can’t dismiss criticism of flat pacing by saying “don’t worry, it’ll matter later” without admitting that right now, it doesn’t. That’s literally a description of the problem. Long-running or episodic structure isn’t a free pass; even stand-alone arcs need proportional payoff. “We’re not halfway yet” explains a release schedule, not why this season has issues.

As for Toph, your assessment is simply off. While her personality remains a through-line, her development is what makes her compelling, as is the case with many strong characters in fiction. To illustrate, a comment from r/TheLastAirBender: “We meet her as a talented but broken girl who doesn’t have any experience with the give and take that comes with friendship and see her become a team player who trusts her friends enough to jump between airships where she’s truly blind. She’s an easy one to root for.” That kind of audience response captures why growth matters. It’s not abstract “laws of writing.” It’s how choices and arcs resonate with viewers, creating admiration, investment, and enduring archetypes. That’s the missing piece in Dan Da Dan’s second season.

Finally, I feel obliged to call out what’s really at work in your defense: “I enjoy the show, therefore it’s good.” That’s valid as a matter of taste, but not as an argument about craft. If you’re going to claim the arc was compelling and effective, you need to show how its stakes and resolutions succeed on structural grounds, not just assert that you liked it. Right now, your reasoning never moves beyond assertion.

@SSL443
I'm not sure why being able to fix momo's house somehow defuses the stake that evil presented during the the arc. We didn't need a symbol to present what could have gone wrong if evil eye wasn't contained. It was already perfectly presented by the events of the arc itself.
You said that if they keep resetting the tone, the next "life-or-death" beat may carry less weight. I may be inclined to agree with you in many other series but I would disagree in this one. We've established the tone of this show from day one that such grave things like that may be hard to come by. We've had arcs predicated on a life-or-death situation, like turbo granny fight, dover demon, or the cursed house. And yet, the scene where evil eye nearly killed momo didn't necessarily lost its impact in establishing the stake of the arc. I wasn't under the impression that the writers will kill momo, but I understand the gravity of what it implies and how it impacted the character's into doing their next set of actions. "Life-or-death" stake can be framed in different ways as a stake or just a simple plot device. Also why kaiju arc, despite being in a similar "life-or-death" situation, doesn't feel the same as the previous arc.

I put an emphasis in fundamental change. When you said that by the end of season, the character's standing are the same, you're somewhat correct. But my point is that this isn't necessarily equivalent to bad writing, especially when they are put in more noble situations that results in them providing entertaining outcomes or subtly add layers to them without necessarily the changing the core character and how they bounce off other characters.

For instance, yes, the cursed house arc and evil eye didn't fundamentally change jiji's standing in the story as the 3rd wheel guy. But it explored more of his character in a way that even many people, who initially disliked him, started to grow fond of him. And that's a worthy outcome for a story. I don't argue that dandadan is static by design, but you can build upon a character without him immediately not being a 3rd wheel anymore. What you saw as season that ultimately didn't progress Jiji's role in the story, I saw as a season that explores other aspects of his character. What you saw as a pointless season, I saw a season that puts our characters in new exciting noble situations that feels different from the first season by way of using different subject matters and even using previously used elements in a different way. It bothered you that the cast's standing didn't progress and you found it repetitive. I didn't and all it took was a different perspective to get what the writer is trying to achieve.

This is also why I don't subscribe to this "That’s valid as a matter of taste, but not as an argument about craft" argument because it puts the pedestal of "objectively correct writing" on a particular writing methodology and that's not how media works.

That comment with toph didn't really refute what I said about her. Her turning from a mistrusting girl to a team player that trusts her friend is an arc that she had pretty early on in the series. It turned her into a strong character to root for sure. And that's pretty much her standing for the rest of the show. you may end up finding fun minutia about her here and there that builds a little more of her but the point is that her role is fixed early on in the series, and for the rest of the show, she didn't fundamentally change anymore. This isn't to lambast the character. My point is that a strongly established character can carry herself for extended run of the show. I wasn't particularly sour about characters in season 2 not changing their dynamic because i found them entertaining when put in different fun situations where I also manage to glimpse into different minutia of the characters.
Ultimately, this is simply one of the formulas that makes series's that uses an episodic self-contained romp tick.

Are they gonna drag the romance tease out for dozens of episodes?

I don't like harem tease, either go for harem or seal the single; instead of blue balling to feed shippers.

@ollieledog honestly same. The 1st season felt like a breath of fresh air cause it was the first few times what you said happens with the enemies happened while also being a pretty decent romance (which we often dont get in shonen) and bizarre enough to make the shonen tropes feel different. But season 2 just felt like it kinda did the same things just with more annoying characters and while slowing down the romance. Im probably just gonna read the manga at this rate tbh.

@cornthedon considering the first 8 episodes of season 2 was finishing yo the evil eye arc that started in the first season I’m gonna hope so “does the same thing” as it’s finishing the SAME arc 😭😭 and the rest of reason 2 is setting up the alien invasion arc were SPOILER!!! Okurun gets jumped and put in a pack and gonna be mia all of season 3 besides the start

@cobcob11x You frame the restoration of the Ayase house as irrelevant, but that misses the point. Symbols matter because they make abstract stakes tangible. Season two sets up destruction of the home as a cost of failure, then erases it by restoring the house with nanoskin in episode 21 and even turning it into a mecha in the kaiju arc. That reversal isn’t just an isolated gag; it tells the audience that supposed losses will not stick. By contrast, season one never rewound Acrobatic Silky’s trauma or Okarun’s curse and missing balls through line. When consequences are preserved, humor and levity can coexist with gravity. When consequences are erased, humor becomes a reset button. That is the distinction.

You also claim resets don’t drain tension because the show’s tone has “always” been unserious. But the record of season one contradicts that. Turbo Granny’s origin with assault victims was never played off as a joke. Aira’s death and revival carried the weight of Silky’s tragic backstory and permanently altered Aira’s role. Okarun’s missing balls were a season-long thread. None of those arcs ended with the threat neutralized and the cost erased. Season two repeatedly sets up child sacrifice, volcanic destruction, Evil Eye strangling Momo, or city-level devastation, then reduces them to either gag, compromise, or providential restoration. If the show signals that the gravest outcomes always collapse back to baseline, the next time it promises “life or death” viewers rationally discount it. Your assertion that weight is preserved is just that, an assertion. The narrative evidence points the other way.

You argue that “life-or-death” can function as a plot device. That concedes the issue rather than answering it. If the show frames hazard as existential to motivate characters, then refuses to let that hazard leave durable cost, it is employing the device without proportional payoff. The kaiju finale feels different in scale, but not in consequence. After the spectacle, the house reverts, the new ally remains, and the field resets. The difference is surface; the underlying pattern is unchanged.

The same issue appears in the training stretch. Episodes 19-20 invest significant time in the composer realm to sharpen Okarun’s rhythm and unlock potential. The immediate payoff is a duel in episode 21 that is then domesticated into a weekly arrangement. The result undermines the investment, with the arc’s energy dissolving into a gag over Evil Eye childlike temperament.

On Jiji, you claim exploration is enough, that making him more likable is a worthy outcome even if his standing as “third wheel” is unchanged. But if possession, near murder of friends, and a multi-episode exorcism ultimately restore him to the same role with only hot and cold water gags to show for it, then the arc has been wheel-spinning. Exploration without consequence is indulgence. To be clear, likability is not a bad thing, but it is not the same thing as narrative consequence.

Your defense also wavers between saying the show does not fundamentally change its dynamics and saying it does reuse elements in new ways. Those positions conflict. If dynamics never shift, recycled motifs are by definition repetitive. If deployments matter, then you have conceded that change exists and is significant. The problem is not reuse as such but reuse without consequence, which is why season two reads as noise where season one’s recurring motifs built pressure and reframed relationships. Similarly, you waffle between suggesting the show is an “episodic romp” and “setup” for later. Which is it? Season one had no trouble delivering both. Turbo Granny’s origin remained, Silky’s tragedy endured, Okarun’s curse and missing balls persisted, and relationship beats accumulated. The formula is not the issue; the execution is.

Your reading of The Last Airbender misses the point. Yes, Toph’s major turn happens early, but that’s precisely why her later constancy works: she undergoes a decisive, irreversible arc (from isolation to trust) within the context of an evolving narrative. Season two of Dan Da Dan offers no equivalent foundation for Jiji, Evil Eye, or Kinta. Their “exploration” produces no permanent cost or redefined relationships, so their stability is unearned compared to Toph’s. Your example concedes the principle: growth that endures sustains interest. Season two, by contrast, leaves characters circling the same ground while the narrative itself feels static. Plateauing after earned growth is one thing. Resetting after promised stakes is another.

Finally, you push back on my taste-versus-craft distinction but still claim arcs were “compelling and effective.” That’s a craft judgment. Either we can debate whether setups/payoffs are proportionate, or everything collapses into “I liked it.” If it’s the latter, fine. That’s valid subjectively, but it concedes the structural critique.

The core of my critique remains: this is not about enforcing constant change, it is about proportion. Season two repeatedly frames existential stakes and then resolves them into resets. The result is arcs that invest screen time in setups without delivering proportional payoff. You may find the situations entertaining regardless, but that is not the same thing as saying the arcs are well executed.

@QDrstone29 since we are getting into spoilers and I caught up since I made this post, do you still seriously think its not a romance tease? You only talked about whats gonna be season 3 so Im going to only bring that up but you cannot tell me the cuddling scene isnt literally the most intimate scene in the manga post season 2. Like theres literally never again a scene that reaches that level between Okarun and Momo and the worst part is that they never talk about it which is absolutely inconsistent on the part of every character because 1. It would absolutely make a significant impact on someone with such self confidence issues as Okarun and he would at least say something or be distant towards Momo because of it 2. Jiji is this supposed to be this peak friend and I assumed he would tell Okarun about what happen seeing as he knows how Okarun feels about Momo.

I dont wanna be too specific because Im not sure if youre up to date but everything past the board game arc is horrendous especially these recent couple of chapters. And if you argue that this isnt a romance at all when one of the main draws when it first started was that it tackled the romance surprisingly strongly and fast for a shonen then you are just lying to yourself. I have other issues apart from the romance stuff but since thats the topic of this thread thats all Im bringing up

See, it doesn't setup it up as a "cost of failure". It sets it up as a secondary stake (emphasis on secondary), next to the actual main one, being our friend is currently possessed, and the nested stake introduced later within it: jiji and okarun's budding friendship could be jeopardized. It is not equivalent to Acro-silky's trauma or Okarun's balls is S1. Heck, if you're actually paying attention, you'll even notice that the bgm they used for the scene focusing on the destroyed house is the same light-hearted bgm they use for cozy SoL moments, signalling to the audience that while this is something worrying to the in-universe characters, it doesn't carry the same gravity as the actual stake of the arc, which is the stake that they DID treat with sincerity and solved using character's sincere efforts, just as sincerely as they solved Acro silky's attack, Aira's death or Turbo granny's fight is S1. What comes after that (Aira becoming friends, Okarun still being cursed) are all simply narrative cause-and-effect of the arc.

Things that comes after they solved Jiji's possession is a natural narrative cause-and-effect of what happened in the arc. Which leaves me to another one of your points. Your idea of proportional payoff conflicts with your idea of objective narrative structure because proportianalism has elements of subjectivity to it. For example, you believe that by making evil eye a child-like character, it defuses what is built-up by the evil eye arc, but it doesn't. It's just an appropriate of an outcome for the arc as what they setup it up to be. I'm not sure what investment is being undermined here. In the context of the arc, the narrative purpose of Okarun becoming stronger is NOT to beat or destroy evil eye. It is to create a dialogue with evil eye so they can work around Jiji's possession without exorcising him. He wasn't even strong enough to defeat evil eye in that ep 21 fight, if they had continued, okarun would have been killed. That narrative beat is achieved. There's no undermining going on here. You simply read the arc wrong.


The problem is, these positions don't conflict. They're not mutually exclusive. Well, it does if your view of fundamental change is too rigid. Mine isn't.
There are still quite a number of new plot elements introduced here to juggle. We now have evil eye, we have our house's new function, Jiji being into spiritual training. They're not particularly negative consequences of what happened before, but they're still accumulating plot elements that leaves lasting impact to the plot moving forward.

This isn't necessarily out of character. They are rivals in love. They do what what they can to woo momo on their own terms.
1. I think it did make an impact on okarun as okarun isn't sure if momo's later platitudes are romantically driven or not when she can be this close to someone else. And I don't think it he will talk about it to momo as that can come off as being clingy and that's not something a guy of his confidence level would do.
2. Jiji doesn't have to say anything about it to Okarun. He is peak friend, but they have openly established to each other that they are rivals in love during the soccer scene in S1. He doesn't have an obligation on reporting his progress to okarun.

Narrative consequences doesn't have to be negative. Narrative consequence is defined as the cause-and-effect of events in a story. I don't consider Acro-silky's sad backstory as a narrative consequence. It's more of a narrative element to drive the actual narrative consequence. Okarun's dreams didn't really get shattered too. As estbalished in this season, he's still particularly excited about alien stuff like when it comes to the mantis shrimp.

Most of the narrative consequences of S1 are actually positive. Arc1 = TG becomes part of the crew. Arc2 = Aria becomes a friend or at least a reluctant ally. Arc3 = Aira awakens powers, so on and so on.

I get the idea that because of the lack of negative consequences in the season, someone might feel dissatisfied. I just don't equate is to "objectively bad writing".

See, it doesn't setup it up as a "cost of failure". It sets it up as a secondary stake (emphasis on secondary), next to the actual main one, being our friend is currently possessed, and the nested stake introduced later within it: jiji and okarun's budding friendship could be jeopardized. It is not equivalent to Acro-silky's trauma or Okarun's balls is S1. Heck, if you're actually paying attention, you'll even notice that the bgm they used for the scene focusing on the destroyed house is the same light-hearted bgm they use for cozy SoL moments, signalling to the audience that while this is something worrying to the in-universe characters, it doesn't carry the same gravity as the actual stake of the arc, which is the stake that they DID treat with sincerity and solved using character's sincere efforts, just as sincerely as they solved Acro silky's attack, Aira's death or Turbo granny's fight is S1. What comes after that (Aira becoming friends, Okarun still being cursed) are all simply narrative cause-and-effect of the arc.

Things that comes after they solved Jiji's possession is a natural narrative cause-and-effect of what happened in the arc. Which leaves me to another one of your points. Your idea of proportional payoff conflicts with your idea of objective narrative structure because proportianalism has elements of subjectivity to it. For example, you believe that by making evil eye a child-like character, it defuses what is built-up by the evil eye arc, but it doesn't. It's just an appropriate of an outcome for the arc as what they setup it up to be. I'm not sure what investment is being undermined here. In the context of the arc, the narrative purpose of Okarun becoming stronger is NOT to beat or destroy evil eye. It is to create a dialogue with evil eye so they can work around Jiji's possession without exorcising him. He wasn't even strong enough to defeat evil eye in that ep 21 fight, if they had continued, okarun would have been killed. That narrative beat is achieved. There's no undermining going on here. You simply read the arc wrong.


The problem is, these positions don't conflict. They're not mutually exclusive. Well, it does if your view of fundamental change is too rigid. Mine isn't.
There are still quite a number of new plot elements introduced here to juggle. We now have evil eye, we have our house's new function, Jiji being into spiritual training. They're not particularly negative consequences of what happened before, but they're still accumulating plot elements that leaves lasting impact to the plot moving forward.