ChaO Review: Yasuhiro Aoki’s Breakneck, Surreal Animated Debut Rewrites the Rom-Com Rulebook

Okay, imagine an anime rom-com that looks nothing like the paint-by-numbers stuff we keep getting out of Hollywood. Now crank up the weirdness, toss in mermaid royalty, and put it all through a blender with some truly wild animation choices. That basically gets you ChaO, the debut feature from Yasuhiro Aoki, and let me warn you: this is not your typical fairytale (unless your typical fairytale includes surreal art direction and uncomfortable interspecies romance).

This Is Not 'The Little Mermaid'—Or Any Western Rom-Com

The basic setup: In this world, humans and mer-people both exist, and someone decided it was time to literally bridge their worlds with a marriage. Enter Stephan, a pretty frazzled human engineer (played by Ouji Suzuka), who builds ships for a living. After a run-in with a tidal wave wielded by King Neptunus (that’s the merman king, voiced by Kenta Miyake), Stephan ends up engaged—scratch that, married—out of nowhere to Princess ChaO (Anna Yamada). She did just rescue him, so maybe that's how proposals work underwater?

This fishy royal wedding immediately turns into media circus, because apparently this union is supposed to kickstart a new era of harmony between the land and sea folk. And you can bet people (well, at least one tenacious reporter named Juno, played by Shunsei Ota) are eager to find out whatactually is going on beneath the surface. Any illusion that this is a pure romance gets dismantled as secrets—and forgotten promises—bubble up.

It’s a Romance, But Also: Ship Safety and Body Horror

• Stephan: A human shipwright, pretty lost, definitely amnesiac, and not exactly equipped for magical geopolitics.
• ChaO: The mer-princess who’s half water nymph, offers both human and fish forms, and claims to love Stephan based on a forgotten promise only she can recall.
• King Neptunus: Overbearing dad/emperor, likes to solve problems with tidal waves.
• Juno: Dogged reporter out to prove something is off about this diplomatic marriage.

The actual relationship is messy, and intentionally so: Stephan kind of sees ChaO as just a giant fish most of the time, which, honestly, is fair. Her humanoid form only appears when she hits the water just right, and even then, it’s a lot to process: blue hair that looks like liquid, sharp teeth, gills, and an iridescent tail with fins instead of feet. Stephan can’t remember ever falling in love with her or making those big promises, and mostly vacillates between confusion, irritation, and mild horror. ChaO, for her part, is oddly calm about the whole thing—she’s sure of her love, even if he’s not.

As if things weren’t complicated enough, there’s an actual subplot about engineering: human ship screw-propellers are killing fish (and sometimes people), and somehow, the solution hinges on the progress of Stephan’s day job. Talk about mixing genres—romance, workplace drama, and aquatic horror, all in one.

The Visuals? Like a Sketchbook Thrown in a Washing Machine

If you get bored by the lookalike anime churned out season after season, ChaO should shock your eyeballs right awake. The art style is ❝someone’s fever-dream sketchbook flung across the screen,❞ bursting with colors and ceaseless movement. It’s chaotic but in a purposeful way—a little reminiscent of Tekkonkinkreet, if you know your deep-cut anime. Director Aoki uses all the tricks: whip pans, frenetic editing, sudden freeze-frames, and a speed that’ll leave you wondering if you just drank ten energy drinks.

No Time to Take a Breath—and That’s the Point

The pace is relentless. The film never 'bobs along'—it sprints, stumbles, and collides from scene to scene, driven by the manic emotions of two characters who can’t seem to agree on anything, let alone the nature of their own relationship. Honestly, Aoki manages to keep the chaos just on the right side of understandable—a minor miracle, given how much is happening at any given moment.

What’s Actually at Stake?

All this noise, in the end, is about prejudice and empathy. ChaO is taking the standard amnesia-romance template and using it to dig into why people (or, sure, fish) fail to see each other’s worth, or even their humanity, through differences. Stephan’s journey is about dealing with trauma as much as it’s about falling for someone with scales. The movie’s not shy about demanding patience, reflection, and maybe a little forgiveness for people who don't immediately 'get it.' It’s less about swooning romance and more about earning the real thing through discomfort and growth.

The Takeaway: It’s Weird, Moving, and Kind of Dazzling

What stuck with me most? The film’s insistence that true love happens in the most inconvenient, embarrassing, even bizarre circumstances—and that real connection takes work, vulnerability, and seeing people as they are (not as you wish they’d be). If you’re looking for a breezy, low-stakes romance, look elsewhere. But if you want something noisy, visually electric, and genuinely unique—yeah, I recommend it. After watching, I practically ambushed my partner in the other room, overwhelmed by all the feels. That doesn’t happen often.

To sum up: ChaO is a wild ride—part romance, part fish tale, part animated spectacle. Come for the mermaid princess, stay for the bonkers art style and the surprisingly heartfelt take on what it means to really love someone—or something—different from yourself.