The Adaptation Triumphs In Conjuring Magic

After multiple delays as the scheduled release date was pushed back, Witch Hat Atelier Season 1 premiered. And it’s remarkable. The series, adapted by the fresh-faced Bug Films (Zom 100: Bucket List of the Dead), had a high bar to clear in bringing this work of fiction to life.

Based on the manga written and illustrated by Kamome Shirahama, the series needed to blend the classical features distinctive to Shirahama’s style while justifying its transplant to the anime medium. The series far surpasses expectations. Directed by Ayumu Watanabe, Witch Hat Atelier astonishes with a world rich in detail and an emotional throughline that drives the story forward. 

From the rush of the premiere to the adrenaline sprint of the finale, Witch Hat Atelier Season 1 works to maintain a breathtaking experience. The series follows Coco (Rena Motomura), a young girl who, after an unfortunate brush with magic, finds herself transplanted into the world of witches. While she grew up believing that witches are born with magic, she soon realizes, through the tragedy of her own inexperience, that it’s something people learn. However, it’s reserved for a chosen, protected few, to keep magic out of the hands of the masses. 

She’s whisked away by the witch, Qifrey (Natsuki Hanae), to his atelier, where she learns with fellow apprentices, the prideful Agott (Hibiku Yamamura), the energetic and eager to please Tetia (Kurumi Haruki), and the fiercely independent Richeh (Hika Tsukishiro). Joining them later are the requisite mythical creature and merchandisable ready Brushbuddy, and the atelier Watchful Eye, Olruggio (Yuichi Nakamura).

The cozy atmosphere is only a cover for oncoming darkness. 

Between them, a chosen family of sorts is formed, as they experience days of domesticity and the triumphs of hard work. That said, despite the atelier’s innate sense of coziness and the days spent picnicking in the rain or cooking together, there’s a darkness that threatens to leech any light or hope from this safe haven. 

In many ways (and obvious ones), Witch Hat Atelier Season 1 is just the beginning. It is the literal start of the hero’s journey, as Coco must deal with the fallout of turning her mom to stone, setting out on a long-gestating quest to learn to be a witch and return her mom to normal. But it’s also just the tip of the ways Shirahama’s story unravels into something with greater complexity and depth than even what is already shown. 

Throughout the story, through the Qifrey’s clear secrecy and hints dropped about the discrepancy of the magical society, it’s evident that while magic in and of itself is wonderful and a tool for joy, it’s not always wielded with that altruistic intent.

We see this manifest in two forms. First, the more abrasive, such as the Brimmed Caps, whose beliefs are at violent odds with the Pointed Caps – those deemed societally acceptable who follow a magical system of law and order. The Brimmed Caps, who, from day one, have set their sights on Coco as a means to push forbidden magic into the forefront. 

Witch Hat Atelier Season 1 is filled with supporting characters who build out the worlds lore. 

But it’s also made clear in more insidious, under-the-radar methods. There’s the Knight Moralis (magic cops) whose rule of enforcement seems to include disregarding any justifications of mismanaged magic, such as when Easthies (Junichi Suwabe) is on the brink of erasing Coco’s memories over a misunderstanding.

Then, there are examples like Tartah (Mutsumi Tamura), whose Silverwash condition only allows him to see the world in silver, resulting in people telling him he won’t be able to achieve the same lengths as other witches. There’s Euini (Hiiro Ishibashi), too, a poor young apprentice verbally belittled by his master, leaving him emotionally brittle and insecure. 

Yes, Qifrey tells Coco that magic should be used to bring color to the world, placating a young girl who has recently suffered an immense personal catastrophe. But it also, clearly, has the potential for ruinous destruction.

The production on the series from Bug Films is absolutely breathtaking. 

It’s why the Day of the Pact exists (where the rule was made that only a few of many can draw magic, enforced by the Knights Moralis), and it’s why the Brimmed Caps pose such an ominous threat as they seek to wreak havoc on the structured means that orderly magic conforms to. And it’s why the cracks in the foundation of magical law are clear to see in how they do a disservice to any of those who don’t fit. 

How the series goes on to examine this thread of in-world structure fracturing is wildly intriguing. Witch Hat Atelier Season 1 sets the stage. The worldbuilding is immaculate, and the characters are instantly lovable. And what’s fun as a fan of the manga is knowing that these 13 episodes, admittedly phenomenal, are the prologue. It’s only going to get even better. 

But the work the series production does is superb and jaw-dropping in its level of detail. In Episode 5, it’s not just the stunning wave of power that Qifrey’s omits when he appears to save his apprentices, it’s the flourish of his pen, too, and the work we see on the edges in the split second he brandishes it. It’s not just the explosion of light in Episode 1, when he runs with Coco through the sky away from her home that turns to stone, but the stumbling steps and fumbling of the windows before ricocheting to open air.

The key to quality is in the intricate craftsmanship. 

The details are everywhere. From how fabric moves and Coco’s hair whips around as she tries to complete the Dadah Range Test, or how the glimpse of Coco running by him in Episode 4 teases Tartah’s Silverwash, the screen goes silver for the split second it’s in his perspective. Yes, the blasts of color, light, and magic are staggering.

And yes, the shift in art style at the crescendo of the finale stuns with the near-unruly implementation of shadows and abrasive linework. But none of it would work if not for the textured nature of the world. These bouts of magic and wonder are so effective because the world they emanate from is lived in, touched by lore and the ink-smudged fingerprints of apprentices training to do wonderful things. 

I’ve said it before, but it’s works like Witch Hat Atelier Season 1 that make one (me) wish to know more about the medium. To study, if you can believe it. To immerse oneself in the exact explanations of how a certain thing works, to articulate with the same gravitas and expertise why what’s happening is so good. I’m not an artist, though; I’m a writer. And I can, at the very least, go in-depth on the story. But sometimes art is so good that it’s hard not to throw up your hands and go, “yeah, this rules.” 

Because yeah, Witch Hat Atelier rules. 

The story enriches itself with colorful, complicated characters whose journeys don’t take an uninterrupted path. As Coco learns more about the world around her, about the injustices and the beauty she has the capacity to create, the more the series builds on its most foundational idea.

While there are hints of a “chosen one” narrative, it’s more interesting how the story subverts this idea. Yes, Coco is chosen, but seemingly by the bad guys. What that means to the story has yet to be unveiled, but it makes for a much more potent place to start. 

From the voice acting to the performances, the technical prowess is off the charts. Witch Hat Atelier Season 1 is a gorgeous piece of art that blends whimsical, classical fantasy storytelling with coming-of-age themes and an omnipresent sense of urgency. Building on themes of grief, identity, loss, and the ways we navigate our lives through how we learn and who we learn alongside, the story is anchored in a web of complex emotions.

Ruled by a steady heart with an intuitive introspection that lends itself to a greater overarching narrative, Witch Hat Atelier is a standout adaptation and easily one of the best in years. And it’s only getting started. 

Witch Hat Atelier Season 1 is available now on Crunchyroll.