The Summer 2023 Anime Preview Guide

Reborn as a Vending Machine, I Now Wander the Dungeon

The protagonist was a vending machine otaku in his past life, having died protecting vending machines from traffic accidents. When he awakens, he finds himself on a lakeshore and confused about what happened. He knows only one thing, now he's a vending machine. He meets a girl outside of a labyrinth in this new world, and his story starts to progress.

Reborn as a Vending Machine, I Now Wander the Dungeon is based on Hirukuma's Reborn as a Vending Machine, I Now Wander the Dungeon (Jidōhanbaiki ni Umarekawatta Ore wa Meikyū ni Samayō) light novel series. It streams on Crunchyroll on Wednesdays.

As far as last words go, “That vending machine is in trouble!” is right up there with “Et tu, Brute?” in terms of memorability. They blow Julius Caesar out of the water if we're talking about stupidity, though, because when a vending machine is falling off a truck, the last thing you ought to do is speed up your scooter to try and catch it. And yet, that's what our mostly-nameless protagonist does, resulting in his predictable death and not-so-predictable rebirth as…a vending machine. In a fantasy world's dungeon.

It's not a bad concept, because isekai at this point needs to be over the top if it's going to make an impression. And how a sentient vending machine with a brain but no legs and limited vocal talents manages to survive is a decent question on to base a plot. The main issues with this episode are largely twofold: nearly all of Boxxo's narration is done in a yell and, like several other premieres this season, the first episode is not terribly interesting setup. Surely there was a better way to introduce the method by which Boxxo survives and restocks than spending precious runtime going through menus accompanied by a disembodied voice.

Fortunately for our hero, he does figure out how to pick a blessing to protect him until Lammis, a lovely young adventurer, stumbles upon him, and things do get marginally more engaging once she shows up. Lammis is a bit lonely and a lot hungry, two things Boxxo can help her with, and the fact that he can project his barrier to encompass her and a potential campsite is something that's likely to come in handy later. That he's addicting an entire fantasy world to modern junk food is probably less good, but it's interesting to note that he can take care of any garbage left in his vicinity because apparently people just throw it on the ground and move on in this realm. He may be raising cholesterol, but at least he won't be contributing to the destruction of the environment!

Apart from the sentient vending machine, not much stands out visually here. It's generic fantasy art all around, although it must be said that Boxxo's eyes are pretty cute, even if the implication is that only we, the viewers at home, can see them. Lammis also doesn't appear to be terminally stupid, just bad at her job, so there's plenty of room for this to grow. I didn't love the episode, but I also can see where it has potential, so if it can tone down the yelling and menus, this may turn out to be a pleasant surprise down the line.

It's easy to see why, when the current isekai trend was starting up, this light novel series became a popular reference point. Everything about the premise feels like the logical conclusion of driving this particular subgenre to its goofiest, most comical extremes. Its greatest joke was simply existing, being a title everyone could point to and ironically call the peak of the genre. The punchline, of course, was that it was a relatively short series with a premise too absurd to turn into an actual product, and treating it like one would be akin to making “Kickpuncher” from Community into a real movie franchise. Yet here we stand in 2023, and the joke is on us. What's more, this first episode is somehow charming enough to be actively more entertaining than most of the non-comedic isekai series this season. What a world we live in.

That's not to say Reborn as a Vending Machine is great. Like many of its reincarnated-as-an-object peers, there's a bit too much time spent futzing with stat menus and hearing the main character monologue everything to himself. What keeps it from being less insufferable than, say, the opening salvo of Reincarnated as a Sword is that Boxxo is totally helpless, inanimate, and at the mercy of the weird little dungeon monsters that pass him by, so there's some genuine urgency to him staring as his steadily dwindling skill points, rather than racking up dozens of super-powered skills. He's just a lonesome food and beverage box, waiting for a kind/hungry soul to drop a coin in his slot and help themselves to his wares.

My point is, there's a lot more you can do – comedic or otherwise – when your character isn't an unstoppable force by the first eye-catch. Boxxo has to fumble for a barrier skill to keep from getting vandalized by frogmen. He's only able to communicate through pre-programmed phrases and the other characters have to intuit his meaning. It even turns the typical RPG mechanics into something more akin to resource management, which is at least a more involved and less-overdone idea than endless special skills and magic spells. Perhaps it's just because those particular tropes hadn't been consolidated when the original light novels came out, but there's at least some personality here that isn't present in its peers.

It's nothing amazing, but between the number-crunching, Boxxo's desire to satisfy his customers, and the general likability of the rest of the cast, I found myself finishing the episode with a mild chuckle, and a temptation to watch another episode. How long that lasts is anyone's guess, since I don't think this particular premise is strong enough to carry a whole show, and the rest of its production is average at best. Perhaps it's best to treat this show like a snack from a vending machine – nice enough, but not enough for a meal on its own.

Everyone, I have great news. After many years of trying and failing, we have officially reached the peak of isekai absurdity. We've had people reincarnated as heroes, villains, background characters, monsters, and swords. But all of that was just to pave the way for the path we must now embark upon. I present to you: Reborn as a Vending Machine, I Now Wander the Dungeon.

Now, I know what you're thinking. Surely, it's not just about being reincarnated as a literal vending machine. He must be able to walk and talk, or perhaps transform into a human while retaining his... vending machine powers. But no, this is 100% the story of a girl who walks around a dungeon with a vending machine strapped to her back.

While I feel that this series could have started in media res—to show us some action along with the absurdity of taking a vending machine into battle—it does spend its time well enough. These 22 minutes are all about setting up the rules of being a magic vending machine and the major problems he must overcome if he has any hope of having anything even close to a "life."

The magic system here is one of the focal points. Essentially, he has a set of magic points to spend on everything from replenishing his items to casting magic spells. The problem is that those points are also used to sustain his power (i.e., his life force) and repair any damage he sustains. And since the only way for him to replenish those points is to sell items, he finds himself in a life-or-death situation right from the start.

This is exacerbated by the two major problems that come from being a vending machine—namely, being unable to communicate with others and the inability to move under his own power. Luckily, his chance meeting with Lammis resolves both issues, at least in the short term. While he can't talk per se, he can recite vending machine stock phrases. Seeing this, Lammis is able to create a basic form of communication by designating one phrase to mean "yes" and the other "no." It's a creative way to solve the problem while limiting our sentient vending machine. It shows that Lammis is more intelligent than she might otherwise appear. The fact that she also possesses super strength solves the second problem, as she picks him up and takes him back to town with her.

The rest of the episode shows how he quickly becomes a fixture in the town, getting him the money he needs to keep running, with Lammis relocating him to different locations each day. While not the most exciting first episode, it does its job of setting up the rules of his new reality. However, what really sells this series is simply its premise: How can you have a fantasy adventure where the main character is a literal vending machine? I'm still not sure, and that's why I'll keep watching.

I am, in many ways, a very simple person. You tell me that there is a new anime out with the words “Reborn” and “Dungeon” in the title? I recoil in horror and dread. You tell me that the main character of said anime is a loveable and weird nerd who has been reborn as a magical vending machine with big, googly anime eyes that has to get carried around by his new best friend so he can make his new fantasy world a better place with the power of conveniently priced snack-food items and refreshing beverages? And his name is freakin' Boxxo? That's when I sit right the hell up and start paying attention, because it's an idea that is just stupid enough to be genuinely funny.

And funny it is! I've said it before and I'll say it again: even the most overplayed and clichéd of premises can work in a comedy if the jokes land, and in Reborn as a Vending Machine, I Now Wander the Dungeon, the jokes land! It's not a laugh riot or anything, and I might be inflating the score up there a bit on account of how seriously lame most of this season's other shows have been, but screw it! I was chuckling from damn near beginning to end of this silly little premiere, and any show that makes me smile this much gets a pass in the Preview Guide. Hell, Reborn as a Vending Machine even managed to get me somewhat invested in the scenes where the main character has to figure out his RPG stats menu and stuff, because I was honestly curious how a literal vending machine was supposed to survive and thrive in an RPG fantasy land.

As it turns out, the answer is the one we all predicted…unless you predicted “slaves”, in which case, you truly have been watching too many of these isekai shows. No, it's “friendship”, of course, and I think my favorite thing about this premiere was the simple but cute dynamic between the perpetually poor Lammis and the perpetually-an-immobile-but-well-intentioned-sentient-vending-machine Boxxo. Maybe Short Circuit simply poisoned my brain from too young an age, but I've always been a sucker for stories about a girl and her robot friend, and I could see the adventures of Lammis and Boxxo becoming a welcome and cozy respite to revisit every week or so. Will this formula be enough to carry an entire season's worth of stories? Who knows. I'm down to clown with this giant metal dweeb and his No. 1 Customer for a couple of more weeks at least, though, and that's enough for me.

We have long been at a point of isekai saturation where I don't really feel bad coming at things from a primarily comparative framework. The question is rarely just, “Is it good?” The question has instead become, “What does it do differently from other, similar series?” The genre is so thoroughly invested in iterating on previously-established tropes rather than innovation that I can only consider it in terms of whether I like how it handles the expected beats, and what it chooses to exclude or include.

So here's the thing: Reborn as a Vending Machine, I Now Wander the Dungeon lacks a lot of the things that annoy me about the modern isekai landscape. There's no slaves, no fixation on levels and only minor references to stats. There's no cruelty or misanthropy. Boxxo, as he's dubbed by the female lead Lammis, doesn't obsess with stats, gaining skills, or getting stronger. Lammis' crop top and booty shorts aren't super practical, but there's little in the way of obtrusive fan service. It was just… nice.

Sure, Boxxo's contentment with being a vending machine that can't move and can only speak in a few stock phrases wasn't something I could relate to. Despite that, there's a sweetness to the joy he takes in providing people with the things he needs. He's now in a position where all he can really do is help people, and he's fine with living an unselfish life of service and giving where people enjoying his products are all the joy he needs. It's almost spiritual, unless you're taking a hard-left stance that people still have to pay money for his products and vending machines are inherently capitalist institutions but I'm choosing to leave that at the door and I recommend you do too.

Lammis is a bit of a typical airheaded anime girl, but the warmth emanating from the writing entered my cold, shriveled heart and I found myself liking her too. She's just so loved in her village, and the people around her care and worry about her in a way that's distinctly human. Going back to the comparative angle, I rarely can get into the female characters in chillout series like this one; they're too wifey, with few interests or personality beyond caring for the inevitably male protagonist; or they're little more than a sentient pair of boobs. Lammis having relationships with the townsfolk feels like she has a life of her own. Plus, I love that her power is ridiculous physical strength, because nothing endears me to a goofy female character like her ability to throw a punch.

I know this review has been glowing, but truth be told, I probably won't watch more of Reborn as a Vending Machine. It's sweet, but also a bit dull, and in a genre that already faces an uphill battle to catch my interest. If it's your thing, I wholeheartedly encourage you to watch it, but I doubt it'll win over new fans.