This absurdist tradition has given rise to the owarai (comedy) industry, a rigorous apprenticeship system that makes British pantomime look like graduate school. Duos practice manzai (stand-up with a straight man and a funny man) for a decade before their first TV spot. The result is a comedy lexicon so dense that Netflix’s algorithm struggles to subtitle the puns. Just when you think you understand the landscape, Japan moves the goalposts into the cloud.
“The ‘Gaki no Tsukai’ method—the ‘No-Laughing’ batsu games—that’s our Kurosawa ,” laughs Yuki Saito, a producer at Nippon TV. “We don’t put celebrities on a pedestal. We put them in a monster costume and make them chase a politician through a maze. Humiliation equals ratings. It’s cathartic for a hierarchical society.” 10musume 123113 01 Ema Satomine JAV UNCENSORED
Furthermore, the terebi asobi (TV game) culture—where minor celebrities are humiliated for laughs—has led to documented cases of PTSD and suicide. The line between “entertaining suffering” and “real suffering” is often blurred in the editing suite. Despite the holograms and the VR concerts, the most shocking trend in Japanese entertainment is a return to the tangible. Vinyl record sales are up 400% among Gen Z. Flipping through physical shashinshu (photo books) of your favorite idol in a cramped mandara-ya (used goods store) is a sacred ritual. This absurdist tradition has given rise to the
Prime-time variety shows feature idols attempting to solve calculus problems while being shocked with a joy buzzer. Celebrities eat increasingly spicy ramen while discussing geopolitics. Comedians are submerged in freezing water for losing a game of rock-paper-scissors. Just when you think you understand the landscape,
In a way, Japan has solved the puzzle of the streaming era. While the West fights over pennies per Spotify play, Japan sells the experience of fandom. It sells the queue. It sells the glow stick. It sells the moment of eye contact at a handshake event.
In 2016, a shy, anime-like girl with long pink hair and a deep, husky voice debuted on YouTube. Her name was Kizuna AI. She was a VTuber—a virtual YouTuber. Behind her, a motion-captured actor (the nakaguma , or “middle person”) performed her gestures, but the character was purely digital.