Critical Role's new Amazon-backed series is leaning hard into the art style that made Japanese anime so much money
CR has also signed on for a fifth season of its other series, "The Legend of Vox Machina."
That will be the last season of the Amazon-backed "TLOVM" — and a milestone for the nerdworld business.
If there's one maxim the Critical Role team seems to be leaning into with its latest slate of Amazon-backed animation, it's to make the characters as hot as possible.
And not just regular hot: Japanese anime-style hot.
At San Diego Comic Con, the cofounders of the nerdworld business dropped the November 19 release date for their coming Prime Video animated series, "The Mighty Nein."
The series is based on the team's second long-running "Dungeons & Dragons" campaign, which it streamed on Twitch and other platforms for 141 episodes from 2018 to 2021.
The main characters in the "Mighty Nein" are voiced by their creators — the eight CR cofounders.
There were also sneak peeks of the new character art.
There's something for everyone!
Japanese anime is a multibillion-dollar industry that the CR cofounders know well. Most of the team started their entertainment careers as anime voice actors.
Matthew Mercer, the group's chief creative officer, was the English voice of the wildly popular anime, "Attack on Titan." He also voiced the devastatingly pretty Vincent Valentine, a fan favorite character in Square Enix's remake of the "Final Fantasy" video game series.
At San Diego Comic Con, Prime Video announced "The Legend of Vox Machina" is getting its fifth and last season. The CR crew also announced that the hit show's fourth season will air in 2026.
"TLOVM" was the initial project through which CR secured an $11.3 million Kickstarter fundraising round to create the show. It has aired three seasons of 12 episodes apiece so far.
"It's so rare for any television series to get to tell a complete story, beginning to end, exactly as it was envisioned," said executive producers and Critical Role co-founders Sam Riegel and Travis Willingham in a press release.
Read the original article on Business Insider
Solve the daily Crossword
Hashtags
Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
Atlantic
an hour ago
- Atlantic
A Requiem for Puff Daddy
Black cool is one of America's great innovations, right up there with basketball, blue jeans, and the internet. It blends several forms—music, sports, fashion, speech, ways of cutting through space—into a wholly distinctive, globally influential aesthetic. There are French fashion houses in thrall to silhouettes first spotted in Harlem, Japanese men who have devoted their lives to spinning jazz records in Shibuya, and lavish murals of Tupac Shakur as far apart as Sydney and Sierra Leone. Sean Combs, the disgraced record mogul, certainly did not invent Black cool. But like Miles Davis, Muhammad Ali, and Michael Jordan before him—and like Jay-Z, Kanye West, and many others who followed—for a flicker of time he was its most formidable ambassador. That moment coincided with my adolescence, which is why the revelation of Combs's extravagant cruelties —the depravity with which he used all that he'd gained—has left my childhood friends and me feeling so betrayed. We had looked up to Diddy, whom I will always think of as Puff Daddy or Puffy. When we were at our most impressionable, he taught us what to want and gave us a model for how to behave and succeed. Seeing him fall apart in our middle age feels like a kind of heartbreak. The verve and swagger he injected into our childhood dreams have curdled into something rancid. Certain photographs of Puffy are permanently etched into my memory. In 1995, dipped in a flowing black-and-gold Versace Barocco silk chemise, liberally unbuttoned to flex a thick Cuban link anchored by a diamond-encrusted Jesus piece—the definitive signifier of inner-city affluence. September '96, on the cover of Vibe magazine: head peering from behind his greatest protégé, the Notorious B.I.G.; signature blackout shades; a perfect S-curl relaxing the weft of his fade. The cool he exuded in these moments was inspirational, even masterful. My friends and I had never seen anything like it so fully pervade the culture, certainly not from someone we felt we could relate to. I have not admired Combs for decades now, since well before his trial this year. But I will always be partial to the Puff Daddy of the '90s: from 1993, when he founded his record label, Bad Boy Entertainment, through the spectacular rise and death of the Notorious B.I.G., and peaking around 1998 during hip-hop's 'shiny-suit era,' which he pioneered with Ma$e and the Lox. By the time I got to college, Puffy was even wealthier, and my cultural references had begun to change. I vaguely remember the preposterous images of him strolling beneath a blazing Mediterranean sun while his valet spread a parasol over his head. He was mainly in the news because of a shooting at Club New York, which resulted in bribery and gun-possession charges against him and a highly publicized trial (he was acquitted). For my friends and me, his shocking newness had begun to fade. Back in his prime, though, Puffy conveyed a sense of youthful ambition that we revered. He was able to transition from sidekick and hype man to dealmaker and multiplatinum performer. Before turning 25, he had founded his own culture-defining business—soon-to-be empire—and knew precisely how to leverage his growing fortune into social capital. More than his success, we were struck by two qualities that seemed novel to us. The first was the amount of effort he openly displayed, which counterintuitively amplified his cool. Puffy made no pretense of obscuring the maniacal work required to achieve his goals. When he closed a million-dollar deal, he slammed the phone down and screamed. (Years later, he would become one of the original hustle-culture influencers on Twitter.) He showed us that flourishing was not a condition one had to be born into—that luxury and labor were connected. The second quality was his ability to make Black people and Black culture—even its less compromising, more street-inflected iteration—feel at home in places, such as the Hamptons, that had not previously welcomed them. Puffy's motto 'I'ma make you love me' felt innocent and aspirational to us, not least because he actually achieved it. We were still many years away from realizing just what he would do with all the love he was given. Helen Lewis: The non-exoneration of Diddy Puff Daddy seemed to us then like a Black man utterly free in a moment of expanding opportunity. Before the age of social media, before we'd ever stepped on a plane, Puffy represented our first intimation of an unrestricted way of being-for-self in the world. On the one hand, he was the antidote to the soul-crushing squareness of upwardly mobile middle-class life that we so feared—degrees, office jobs, bills. On the other hand, he was perfectly assimilated into the good life of the American mainstream, to which we desperately craved access. This made him dramatically unlike his peers. Tupac and Biggie were confrontational, and look where it got them. Rap entrepreneurs such as Master P and Brian 'Baby' Williams were rich but ghettoized; any number of establishments wouldn't seat them. Puffy, by contrast, looked like a marvelous solution to the problem of success and authenticity that my friends and I had been struggling to solve. Yet we were suffering from a kind of myopia. And it wasn't unique to us. The generation after us put their faith in Kanye West, whose most recent contribution to the culture is a single titled 'Heil Hitler.' Role models are like seasons. One passes irretrievably into the next, but for a moment they might reveal possibilities that outlast and surpass them.
Business Insider
3 hours ago
- Business Insider
I'm the CEO of Twitch. My day starts with a 5-mile run and often ends with playing country songs on a late-night livestream.
This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Dan Clancy, the 61-year-old CEO of Amazon-owned Twitch, who lives outside of Portland, Oregon. It's been edited for length and clarity. When I was an undergrad at Duke, I double-majored in computer science and theater — an unusual combination that often raised eyebrows. Most people couldn't see how the two fit together. Fast-forward a few decades, and my path led me deep into tech: earning a Ph.D. in AI and computer science and working at places like NASA, Google, YouTube, and Nextdoor. By the time I arrived at Twitch, I was seen primarily as a tech executive. But at my core, I've always been a creative. Being CEO of Twitch gives me the rare opportunity to bring both sides of myself — technologist and creative — into a single role. Here's what a typical day looks like for me. BI's Power Hours series gives readers an inside look at how powerful leaders in business structure their workday. See more stories from the series here, or reach out to the editor Lauryn Haas to share your daily routine. I wake up at 7 a.m. and run five miles I usually wake up naturally. I don't worry about an alarm clock. I try to exercise in the morning unless I have a super early meeting. If my meeting starts at 9 a.m., I'll wake up at 7 a.m. or so, and then I'll try to be out running by 7:30 a.m., and I'll run four or five miles. I will get back about 8:30 a.m. In 2017, I started running regularly. In the past, I'd run for three months and then I'd stop. This time I gamified it and it stuck. Then I started biking, I started swimming, and then I did two Ironmans. I did a number of half-Ironmans. I did a half-Ironman last year. I use a Garmin. I'm not training right now, but when I am training, I'll try to exercise twice a day. Aside from bike riding or swimming, I like to white-water kayak. Usually, I am at my home in Washington working remotely, so I don't need to worry about commuting. I try not to look at my phone. It's always tempting to start swiping in some random app, but in general, I very much try to avoid. If I'm swiping for five minutes, it's probably Instagram. I drink Coca-Cola, not coffee I'm not a coffee drinker and I'm not much of a breakfast eater. At one point, when I was trying to lose weight, I did intermittent fasting, and now I'm not intermittent fasting, but I still often don't eat in the morning. My bad habit is I drink Coca-Cola now. I try to keep it to one, and I don't need it in the morning, but I do get caffeine. I always go through these cycles of saying, "I need to stop drinking Coke." And then I stop for a while and I feel good about it, and then I start drinking it. Ever since I was young, I'll keep flopping back and forth, and the family is constantly encouraging me to give up the habit. My day is back-to-back meetings I spend most of the time meeting with people. It might be a product review or a go-to-market review. I have one-on-ones with various folks. Some days we have an off-site with our leadership team. Slack is the primary channel. I still check my email regularly, but to be honest, my email now is dominated by messages I don't need to pay attention to. I have a 30-minute meeting later to sync on a personnel project. Then I have a two-hour quarterly business review. This is Amazon culture for managing what's going on. Once a quarter, we'll have a QBR for all of our business units. This one is for community health, which is the team that works on our moderation tools. Lunch is usually some form of a sandwich. I'm not a fine-dining person. I just think, why should I spend 30 bucks on a lunch? I can afford 30 bucks on a lunch, but it seems like I don't need it. My generative hours are around midnight There's also times when I need to be generative. I find it hard to be generative in the same space and in the middle of a day. Often, my modus operandi is that I'll get going at 10 or 11 at night, and then I'll just write till one in the morning. This probably was conditioned in me when my kids were young. I was working at NASA at the time, and then Google for some of it. Google is a good example. Folks were staying late at Google in 2005, but I'd still try to get home at 6 or 6:30. I'd spend time with the kids, do dinner, run around outside. Half the time I'd fall asleep while putting them to bed. Then I'd wake up at 11:00 p.m., start catching up on email and writing stuff. People always joked that they would get these notes from me at 3:00 a.m. I hang out and sing on livestream Today my work day ends at 3 p.m. because I'm streaming tonight. I'm doing my first full charity stream with an organization GCX for St. Jude's. The beauty of streaming is very little goes into prepping it. I streamed Tuesday night and the prep work that went into the stream was: I showed up in the room where we have a piano, I turned on the computer, I made sure my OBS configuration was right, and I hit "Go live." On that stream, I talked with the community some, but then I played probably a handful of songs. Sometimes I like to drop in on other streamers and hang out with them. On that stream, I knocked on T Pain's stream and we hung out for like 45 minutes chatting. Then I did an hour more of songs and signed off. The other day I was mostly playing Tyler Childers' songs. I'm a big fan of Zach Bryan, so I do a lot of his songs. Sturgill Simpson, Gregory Alan Isakov, and this guy Jeffrey Martin, who I think is amazing. Everybody knows "Let It Be" or "Take Me Home, Country Road" or "Piano Man," but those aren't the ones I usually choose. I consider myself a mediocre piano player, but as I'm improvising, it sounds like I know what I'm doing. I read and spend time with my kids after work If I'm at home, I'll do something with the kids at night. My son's 23, my daughter's 27. My daughter has an 11-month-old now. We all live close to each other. I'm the one who often did the cooking, but that's just because I'm a functional cook. I pick some form of protein, a tri-tip, steak, salmon, chicken. I pick something to do with potatoes, and then they're like five vegetables that are my go-to. It's fairly repetitive. I mostly cook at home. I can't remember the last time I had a non-work dinner where we made a reservation. I'll watch TV shows, but I don't watch many movies anymore. I just watched "Paradise." I liked "Your Friends and Neighbors" and "The Penguin." A little bit of drama, but not a horror thing. When it's time to wind down around 10:30 to 11 p.m., I'll lie down and read. I just finished reading "Long Island" by Colm Tóibín. I like novels, but I'm not really a Tom Clancy novel reader. I'm much more of a literary novel reader, something that has emotional connection. One of my favorite authors is Cormac McCarthy and his book "The Road." I've read it a few times. I fall asleep fairly quickly once I've started reading. Ten minutes and I'm getting sleepy.
Time Business News
5 hours ago
- Time Business News
BEHIND THE ABSTRACT: Exploring Adrian Gabriel Dumitru's Hidden Messages and Reflections on Identity
In the realm of modern introspective literature, few authors provoke as much thoughtful self-questioning as the Romanian Adrian Gabriel Dumitru. His Kindle series, now including BEHIND THE ABSTRACT: … there is always a message (Love Essays … contradictory perceptions / Book 10), stands as a powerful reminder that what we see is often far removed from the truth that lies beneath. With the book available on Amazon, Google Play Books, and Apple Books, Dumitru continues his mission to guide readers toward deeper self-reflection, spiritual growth, and an honest look at the duality of the mind. Born in Romania, Adrian Gabriel Dumitru—often simply credited as Adrian Dumitru—has built a unique legacy in reflective essays that examine the quiet spaces within our minds. He weaves together ideas of illusory thoughts, inner conflict, and the illusion of identity into essays that feel like personal conversations with the reader. At the heart of his writing is an urgent desire to awaken our mindful awareness to the hidden messages embedded in everyday life. Unlike typical self-help books, Dumitru's BEHIND THE ABSTRACT is both subtle and provocative. The essays don't spoon-feed answers. Instead, they pose questions that challenge you to consider your own identity crisis, contradictory thoughts, and the fragile nature of human consciousness. Through these philosophical reflections, Dumitru creates a space for self-therapy through writing, a practice he passionately believes can unlock authentic personal transformation. A core idea in Dumitru's work is that life is coded with hidden messages—signs we often overlook in our rush for certainty. By slowing down, observing patterns, and practicing pattern recognition, we begin to decode these clues and gain insights into the deeper abstract meaning of our thoughts and actions. This journey reveals the paradox at the heart of existence: the tension between perception vs reality. Dumitru believes this tension is not a problem to be solved but a truth to be accepted. Modern life encourages us to build strong personal brands—clear, fixed versions of ourselves to present to the world. Dumitru argues that this is an illusion of identity. Beneath the roles we play lies a shifting mindscape of illusory thoughts and inner conflict. In BEHIND THE ABSTRACT, Dumitru challenges us to sit with these illusions, to explore them through self-reflection, and to embrace the existential thinking that arises when we admit how little we truly know about ourselves. Although Dumitru's book tackles complex ideas like the duality of the mind and human consciousness, it never strays far from its subtitle: Love Essays. Love, for Dumitru, is the thread that binds these contradictions together. It is through love—whether for a person, an idea, or the universe itself—that we find the courage to face our identity crisis, work through contradictory thoughts, and pursue spiritual growth. A defining feature of Dumitru's approach is his belief in writing as a tool for healing. His essays model how to turn writing into a mirror—reflecting our mind and emotion, revealing our inner conflict, and slowly transforming confusion into clarity. By practicing self-therapy through writing, readers can move beyond passive reading into active personal transformation. It's not about arriving at final answers but about becoming comfortable with the questions themselves. One of the book's most liberating insights is its embrace of contradictory thoughts. Dumitru insists that we do not need to force tidy resolutions. Instead, we can live in the tension between opposing ideas—seeing this not as weakness but as the birthplace of wisdom. This mindset fosters mindful awareness, a state in which we observe thoughts and feelings without judgment, recognizing that truth often lives between extremes. At a time when quick answers are just a search away, Dumitru's work reintroduces the art of existential thinking. He invites readers to look beyond their immediate struggles, to question the nature of reality, and to embrace the vastness of human consciousness. His essays remind us that it is possible to hold multiple truths at once—to accept uncertainty as a natural part of life's journey. If you are ready to explore the deep questions of your own mind and heart, BEHIND THE ABSTRACT is a perfect starting point. You can find it now on: Amazon Kindle Google Play Books Apple Books In the end, BEHIND THE ABSTRACT is more than a book. It's an invitation from Adrian Gabriel Dumitru—the Romanian voice of modern philosophical essays—to step away from the noise and sit quietly with your own thoughts. Through its exploration of illusory thoughts, the illusion of identity, dualities of the mind, and the timeless struggle of perception vs reality, this book offers a gentle but powerful reminder: beneath the abstract, there is always a message waiting to be heard. TIME BUSINESS NEWS
