Yondemasu Yo, Azazel-san is a comedy about the lovely little vulgarities in life – immature and depraved toilet humor, the contemptuous mockery of those deemed deserving of it, a gleeful glorification of all the worst parts of humanity, the unnecessarily graphic splattering of its characters across as many surfaces as possible, and – in the third episode of this new season – hemorrhoids with the eruptive and destructive power of a mighty volcano, all brought lovingly into your home by an adorably despicable cast of demonic cartoon animals. It’s got enough offensive material to bring a football team to the playoffs and takes a great pride in being as gross as it can possibly dream up. The end result, if you can stomach it, is quite funny.
Really, if you’re at all curious about the show, the best way to determine if Azazel-san is for you is to start watching it from the beginning of season one until you become so violently offended that you have to stop. If that moment ever comes, then you’re probably not the kind of person this show was made for, and that’s fine. If it doesn’t, then congratulations, you have now watched Azazel-san! The short, twelve-minute episodes make the series breeze by and let Production IG throw a bunch of disgusting little extra details into the animation.
If, after that experiment, you enjoyed the first season, then you’re in luck! The second is more of what you loved. Akutabe still has as overwhelmingly powerful and deliciously evil a presence as ever, Beelzebub is his old stuck-up self, and Azazel continues to lust over anything that moves and decorate the room with his seemingly endless supply of internal organs at least three or four times an episode. All the while, our straight “man”, Rinko, is the self-sufficient, no-nonsense female character every anime should have, with as big a mean streak as she has a soft side, serving as an excellent sparring partner for Azazel and Bee-yan and their demonic antics, and an up-and-coming – if too empathetic – successor to Akutabe himself.
The first two episodes also give us the return of our good friend Moloch, whose likeness has become the mascot of an in-show restaurant and spiraled out of control into a TV series and toy line that becomes the focus of these episodes’ plot. And to top it all off, the “all-star” voice cast of the first season returns – because if anyone but Hiroshi Kamiya played the obnoxious stuck-up insectoid penguin in a powdered wig and a crown then I don’t know what I would do.
Much of Azazel-san’s humor comes, as one would expect, from the sheer shock value of its content. It’s from the director of Bludgeoning Angel Dokuro-san, another obscenely violent comedy that I didn’t care for before but now kind of want to rewatch, so if you’ve seen that, you should know what to expect. In that sense, the episodes so far this season have been pretty standard fare for the series, inasmuch as anything in Azazel-san can really be called “standard fare.” It’s not breaking much new ground for itself, but then, it doesn’t really need to – the formula it has is enough to carry at least another season, especially given the half-length episodes that ensure the show doesn’t wear out its welcome. As long as it can keep coming up with new kinds of toilet humor to splash around in, its appeal will remain – what could possibly be more timeless than poop jokes? The currently-running transvestite-hemorrhoid-doctor arc certainly suggests that the series is at no shortage of ideas.
If you’re in the market for a short show that’s as tact-free as you could ever hope for a show to be, Azazel-san is the one to watch. The five-year-old inside me loves it to bits, that’s for sure. But I don’t blame you if you didn’t even make it through this first impression. This kind of crap certainly isn’t for everyone’s tastes.