If you were a child who existed within the ‘80s and ‘90s, chances are that Japanese pop culture left some sort of influence on your noggin. Whether it be the colorful landscape known as anime or the equally enchanting treasure trove of Japanese video games, manga, and other forms of art, there’s definitely something from Nippon that has imprinted somewhere on your soul. In the case of this writer, I was raised on the wacky sensibilities of shoujo (girl-focused) animated adventures, specifically Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon, Fushigi Yuugi, and Ranma ½, just to name a few. These and so many other landmark titles shaped my fascination towards listening to soul-infused pop, watching school girls run around with toast in their mouth, but most importantly, falling in love with the fascinating people who brought these beautiful stories to the screen. It’s a love affair that’s continued through my entire life and shaped every aspect of my artistic (and emotional) taste.
Ginger Root. Photo Credit: Cameron Lew. Photo courtesy of Grandstand Media.
Now, some 30ish years later, the nostalgia for that era of faded cassette tapes, J-pop music, and other delicious memories of the past, has driven many fans to search for modern artists who evoke those similar enchanting ideals. One of the main leaders in this Japanese nostalgia movement is Ginger Root, an indie music group lead by singer/songwriter, Cameron Lew. Known throughout the internet as the guy who makes music videos with vintage Japanese camcorders for TikTok, it’s clear that Lew loves this era of Japanese culture just as much as the rest of us. Not only do his music videos and album covers pay tribute to the peak of said time, but this music feels like it was ripped right out of a forgotten anime. It’s a fact that becomes even more true with the band’s new visual album film, SHINBANGUMI, which serves as a love letter to the past with the perfect amount of biting commentary towards the future. Now with the project being released on VHS tapes after its airing on Adult Swim, it’s time to dive deep into what makes this unique narrative from Ginger Root stand ahead of the nostalgic content pack.
The movie opens on Ginger Root presenting a new (in his music video universe) anime adaptation of his Meet You in the Galaxy series to his manager (Nanami Iwasaki) at Juban TV. After the pair fail to agree on their next project, The manager decides to fire Lew, leading our protagonist to forge a new creative path without the backing of his previous network/employer. What then unfolds is a wacky, handcrafted, magical underdog story focusing on the turbulent world of TV production as Lew tries his best to get his original indie series Overdrive Academy out to the masses.
Ginger Root. Photo Credit: David Gutel. Photo courtesy of Grandstand Media.
As the first musical sequence plays on, it’s clear that Lew and company understand the assignment at hand: create a piece that is the vibe to end all vibes. From the use of miniature sets to establish the world to the fantastic callbacks to iconic Japanese media, there’s a comforting nature to this musical project that’s infectious in the purest sense of the word. Granted, for those who weren’t spoonfed Power Rangers and Toonami at a young age, Lew’s aesthetics might come across as something more Wes Anderson (The Fantastic Mr. Fox) than its true Kamen Rider-meets-Mr. Rogers’ presentation. But what makes SHINBANGUMI more than just an excuse to throw anime-inspired imagery at the wall is the heart at its center. For even with all of its comedic tones, this is a project that is fueled by the anxieties of being an artist in an industry that refuses to accept creativity. And Lew, with neon-infused gusto, dives deep into that abusive cycle with confidence.
While the majority of SHINBANGUMI handles this tricky subject with confidence, easily the best example comes in the form of the “Only You” sequence. After being literally sucked into his own TV show, Ginger Root finds himself held hostage by two evil versions of himself, only to be saved by his Overdrive Academy heroine (indie artist Amaiwana) via her magical guitar. But as soon as he thinks he’s rescued, Ginger Root finds himself caught in an endless nightmare of imaginative chaos, culminating in him being whisked off into the sky via a magical flying subway train that eventually crashes back into a TV. While certainly whacky in its presentation, this scene speaks to the never-ending anxiety of the consumer-driven media landscape. No more is art created for the sake of the art itself, but rather is a destructive relationship with more give than take. One that Lew, being a notable figure of the TikTok era, knows the pressure of all too well.
Ginger Root. Photo Credit: David Gutel. Photo courtesy of Grandstand Media.
Despite the massively depressing reality between its frames, SHINBANGUMI is more of a celebration than a cause for concern. Not only does the narrative (cautiously) celebrate the main character’s achievements, but the project simmers in the joy of creating artwork as a team. It’s an aspect that not only reflects the typical group efforts made to produce any piece of media, but puts an all-too-familiar spotlight on the similar teambuilding found in anime production companies. In every frame, you can feel Ginger Root’s unabashed admiration for Japanese Animation and TV production teams of the past. From the homages to Sukeban (delinquent schoolgirl) and Tokusatsu (special effects) shows, to the endless visual cues evoking Evangelion and other Studio Gainax era imagery, SHINBANGUMI is as much a love letter to Japan’s unsung artistic heroes as it is to filmmaking as a whole. And considering Lew’s background in filmmaking, it’s a treat to see him thrive in two art forms so beautifully.
Yet even with such high amounts of praise, to put simply, SHINBANGUMI is far from a movie for everyone. With its offbeat Huey Lewis-style MTV sensibilities to its endless references to Nippon’s late-Shōwa era pop culture, this clearly is made for a niche who has craved this kind of a material for decades. It also doesn’t help that many aspects of SHINBANGUMI revolve within the world of Ginger Root’s prior music videos, making it quite the head-scratching experience if you aren’t coming in with any prior knowledge of the band’s work. To put simply, if you’re coming in expecting this to be an easily digestible original piece, this might not be the music video anthology piece for you.
Ginger Root. Photo Credit: David Gutel. Photo courtesy of Grandstand Media.
At the end of the day, SHINBANGUMI is a little slice of heaven for those that love a handcrafted adventure. With its 44-minute runtime, it’s a piece that cherishes the minds of those who wished they could jump into the frames of their favorite colorful comforting tale without dumbing down their intellect. And though it’s certainly far from accessible for the more casual viewer, it’s a creation that deserves to be hung up on the walls for (and in the hearts of) those who would appreciate it. Because in a world where creativity feels like a discarded artifact, it’s nice to know there are still people like Ginger Root making something authentic, genuine, and downright funky.
Available April 28th, 2025.
Shipping May 23rd, 2025.
For more information, head to the official Ginger Root Shinbangumi: A Music Movie VHS webpage.
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Categories: Home Video, Reviews
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