I’ll never forget that singular moment.

I was supervising the art club at one of the junior high schools in Japan that I taught at, when one of my female students presented me with a black plastic bag. She encouraged me to open it up, a smile beaming from her face as I peeked in and saw that she had brought me the entire The Idolmaster TV series on BD to borrow. I told her idols and such weren’t my thing, but she insisted that I watch it because she and the rest of her friends were super into the franchise.

Fine. What easier way to earn cool teacher points with my students than to do the easy thing they want me to do?

With a healthy bit of skepticism below the surface, I reluctantly borrowed the BDs and brought them home with me that day. 

Four years later and here I am reaching into my luggage, pulling out a copy of the deluxe The Idolmaster movie BD and setting it on my shelf.

What went wrong? What went right? What the hell is this The Idolmaster all about?

I should note here that I’m no super experienced mega fan. I’m still digging into the franchise in ways that the long term fans would probably laugh at.

For those of you who have no idea what this whole master of idol thing is, let me take a moment to offer you the most basic of explanations.

Back in 2005, Bandai Namco released The Idolmaster in Japanese arcades. It featured a touchscreen (at the time still a fairly rare thing to see in arcade cabinets), a card which recorded player data, and an online connection so that you could check out the leaderboards. The gameplay was simple enough: players assumed the role of a music producer who would try to essentially raise an idol up to star status. This involved managing practices, picking outfits and music, doing performances, and a handful of other mini-game like activities. At its core, The Idolmaster was an extension of the many simulation/raising games of the 90s: stuff like Princess Maker and the like.

What ultimately set this brand new property apart from the rest of its contemporaries was its focus on music. By shifting the focus to raising an idol, Bandai Namco was able to slowly morph The Idolmaster into a larger multimedia project, even if that might not have originally been the plan.

Ten years later and there are dozens of manga adaptations, two full TV anime series (no, I don’t count that one), a movie, animated shorts, tons of console games and a handful of mobile ones as well, unending CD releases, yearly concerts, and who knows what else I’m forgetting. The Idolmaster is here to stay, and there’s little doubt that it has earned that spot.

So back to the story of me and my students, and the bag of The Idolmaster anime BDs they lent me.

It took me all of a long evening to marathon my way through the set, a far cry from the month long pain watch I had anticipated upon agreeing to take a look. What was it that kept me in my computer chair watching? As somebody who has never been a fan of idols or the industry, what was it about The Idolmaster that had made me a fan literally overnight?

Turns out it was a whole lot of things.

The strong visual aesthetic, the great work that Atsushi Nishigori did on the series, the catchy songs, the fun underdog story, Makoto, the cheerful tone, the vibrant cast of characters; there’re at least a dozen reasons why I fell in love with The Idolmaster. It’s a strong example of great execution on what could and maybe even should be a ridiculous concept, elevating the whole project into higher levels of quality. Truth be told, The Idolmaster TV anime, when viewed in a vacuum, has a little bit of something for everyone. It certainly isn’t some deep character study, but each of the main girls (and even the Producer himself) get some time in the spotlight that helps to flesh out their backgrounds and personalities. Chihaya’s arc in particular stands out as one of the more emotional, maybe grounded bits of drama in the series. Meanwhile, characters like Ami and Mami get more lighthearted adventures. All of this is presented with some beautiful animation (the dances!) courtesy of A-1 and the myriad of studios that helped them bring the show to the screen. The whole thing is cheerful and upbeat with a pinch of naivety, and I think that’s OK.

So there it was. The Idolmaster anime had proven to be my entry drug into the franchise. It would still be a few years before I eventually swallowed my pride and picked up a copy of The Idolmaster: One For All for the PS3. I think a part of me, even after enjoying the anime, always assumed that the games had some kind of creeper element to them, keeping me from ever really considering them. As it turns out, these games are all fairly innocent fluff, presenting a super idealized view of what the idol industry is, and as a result ending up being mostly harmless, if not super naive, J-pop fun.

One For All starts out a bit slow as the game pushes you through its myriad of nonstop tutorials. Every element of the game is explained to the player in excruciating detail, but when it finally sets you loose with your idol, it becomes the kind of management sim that’s appealing to more than just the obvious anime/manga demographic. You’re picking outfits, selecting new music tracks based on what fans and buyers are interested in at any given time. You’re choosing jobs or rehearsals and prioritizing what should happen first based on skills your idol lacks, and spending time with your girls so that they trust you more. The gameplay cycle is relatively fast moving, making for a breezy experience that’s easy to pick up and play, but also welcoming to folks who want to spend hours in one sitting.

And all of this bleeds into the huge fanbase for the various actresses/singers who are now forever attached to the franchise. Thousands upon thousands of fans pile into buildings to see concerts put on by the actresses. New CDs get released for every mainline game, every girl, and every spinoff. The Idolmaster is fascinating in that one doesn’t necessarily have to ever play one of the games to be a fan of everything else. Some folks are only in it for the music, others for the great dance animation in the show, and some for the mobile game stuff alone. Cosplayers are drawn to the franchise for its seemingly endless supply of cute characters and outfits. It’s a glove that’s attempting to fit pretty much every hand imaginable if people let it. 

Even still, there was a wall I needed to overcome back in the day. The real world idol industry is a weird beast of sorts, and it can be hard to separate that from its 2D counterpart, which has grown astronomically since the original The Idolmaster’s conception. Now we have stuff like Love Live, the plethora of Vocaloids, and all sorts of other 2D idol groups. Hell, this isn’t even limited to all-girl groups either. There’s plenty of male idol stuff floating around if you look for it. It’s entirely possible to be a fan of the real world stuff and hate the animated things, and vice versa. I have close to zero interest in the real world idol industry, but I’ve grown rather fond of the animation/game stuff. I think that’s perfectly fine. Despite The Idolmaster celebrating its tenth anniversary this year, this new genre of media is still growing and changing, and people are still trying to figure out how to connect with this stuff.

So what’s the point of all this, you ask? I’m actually not so sure anymore. Maybe I wrote this because The Idolmaster (and various other music/idol-centric franchises) has been on my mind a lot lately. Or maybe it’s because I’m upset that I don’t like Cinderella Girls as much as I’d hoped. It’s probably because I promised myself I’d write about The Idolmaster approximately four years ago. 

Whoops.

I guess what I’m really trying to say is that The Idolmaster has a little bit of something for everyone, and if you give it a chance, you might be surprised by how quickly you fall into the deep dark pit that Bandai Namco has spent the last ten years digging.

I know I’m ready.

EDIT: Made some corrections to include the animated internet-only shorts. Thanks for the call outs!