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When the hotly anticipated tactics RPG Demonschool came out earlier this month, what caught my eye the most wasn’t the vivid artstyle, the tongue-in-cheek humor, or the college setting. It was the credits. Alongside the usual list of names are a few sentences written by the game’s director Brandon Sheffield that outline exactly what Necrosoft’s team and contractors did for the game.
Thanks to these detailed credits, we know that Technical Director Shane Marks was “responsible for stitching everything together, developing and implementing underlying technologies […] and created the technique menu flow and accessibility options,” among other contributions. Similarly, Technical Audio Designer Vincent Diamante “implemented all music and sound effects and devised all sound effect and music systems.” Hayden Scott-Baron “refined minigame pacing and flow” and crucially “created fish outlines in fishing minigame” as a Designer. And so on. Without this level of depth, we could only guess what a “Designer” did on the game, as is the case with most credits.
It’s hard enough to get your name into a game you worked on, let alone have your actual contributions detailed to this extent. Many studios only credit those around at the launch of a game, regardless of the work those contracted or let go from the studio did for it during development. If you’re not around when it ships, you may as well not have been there at all. Some studios have the decency to go back and update credits if developers have changed names, but in most cases, a game’s credits stand as a monument to whoever was on the payroll at the time it shipped. What’s more, games with external partners are dependent on those partners providing their own list for the credits, with some only giving the company name.
In the past companies would even obscure credits for their internal teams, like when Capcom reduced the work of Yoko Shimomora on Street Fighter II: The World Warrior to the anonymised “Shimo-P.” This was often done to prevent their developers being poached by rival game companies, but also served to minimize their contributions and visibility—a particularly sore point in an industry where people are often assumed to be male. Atari’s reluctance to credit its developers infamously lead to Warren Robinett hiding his name within Adventure, making it one of the first easter eggs in games. Hiding names in games even became policy at publisher Atari when they saw how their players enjoyed the pursuit.
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In early October, a coalition of 68 organizations representing policy advocates, faith leaders, and social service providers sent a letter to the Cook County Board of Commissioners. As the 2026 budgeting process got underway, they wanted lawmakers to freeze spending on law enforcement. The hundreds of millions of dollars devoted each year to jails and […]
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It’s a bit of an understatement to say that Shinichirō Watanabe is a big deal in the anime scene. As the director of series like Cowboy Bebop and Samurai Champloo, Watanabe is behind some of the most seminal shows the medium has ever seen. Known for drawing heavily on American culture and music, his work has often been seen as a gateway into the space for many overseas viewers, combining disparate genres and influences into a surprisingly cohesive picture.
However, beyond just offering an introduction to anime, his output is known for delivering a one-two punch of easygoing style juxtaposed against characters who hide their deeper concerns under a veneer of cool. Bebop is the poster child for this contrast; its breezy fight scenes and jazzy interludes initially obfuscate the fact that its characters are weighed down by their pasts.
Watanabe recently visited the United States for Japan Society’s Foreign Exchange 2025: Cross-Cultural Conversations With Anime Visionaries in New York City, where he participated in a series of talks. As part of the event, we had the opportunity to speak with him about what this kind of cultural exchange means to him, his interest in American music and movies, his past work, and his plans for the future.
The A.V. Club: You’re here in the United States this week as part of Japan Society’s Foreign Exchange 2025. What do you think is the benefit of this kind of cross-cultural exchange between American and Japanese creatives, both for yourself and in general?
Shinichirō Watanabe: First of all, since my very first project, I’ve never made my anime thinking that I only want Japanese people to watch it. I’ve always wanted everybody, people from all over the world, to watch, and that’s how I feel when I’m creating. So an opportunity like this is great for me to get to see people, and if it helps the work spread to the rest of the world, I think that’s an amazing opportunity. To have your work go beyond and spread to the wider world, and also to go beyond the scope of time, to go beyond generations; these two things are the most satisfying.
AVC: Much of your work demonstrates influences from Western and American pop culture. How did you first become interested in American culture and music?
SW: Ever since I was a young teen, I’ve always preferred American movies and American music to Japanese movies and Japanese music. I think it came from my desire to escape, to somewhere that wasn’t here. So, an admiration for culture that’s foreign to me, rather than culture that’s my own, I think that’s where it came from.
One thing I should add is that I grew up in a town in the countryside with no culture whatsoever. So, I think that really contributed to it. To explain how rural it was, there wasn’t a single store or a running bus.
AVC: There’s a significant emphasis on music in your work. Can you talk us through your thoughts on how a good soundtrack can elevate an anime?
Jiffy corn muffins are an iconic, low-cost pantry staple introduced during the Depression. Thanksgiving is peak season for the company, which has been run by the same family for five generations.