Crunchyroll Co-Producing Anime in 2025: Why It Matters (and Why It Feels Samey)

More than one in six new TV anime in 2025 had Crunchyroll involved in some part of its production. That number sounds huge, but it also tracks with where the industry has been heading for years.

Crunchyroll is no longer just the place that streams anime after it’s made. It’s also putting money in earlier, getting a seat at the table before a show even exists. That shift changes what gets financed, what gets promoted, and what English-speaking audiences end up hearing about each season.

This is a look at what that “co-producer” role tends to mean, why it makes business sense, and why it can feel like the seasonal line-up keeps circling the same types of shows.

Crunchyroll’s shift from distributor to production committee regular

A while back, the normal flow was simple: Japanese studios and producers made anime, then overseas distributors licensed it. Companies like Crunchyroll would go to Japan, pay for the rights, and bring titles to North America.

That model still exists, but it’s no longer the whole story.

Crunchyroll now frequently joins production committees, the groups of companies that fund and manage an anime project. When a streaming platform is on the committee, it can lock in key rights from the start, especially:

• Streaming rights for North America
• Home video rights in North America
• Merchandising rights tied to its markets

That move is not surprising. If you’re a major anime platform and you’ve already swallowed much of your direct competition, the fight isn’t over. You still have global players like Netflix pushing hard for exclusive content and attention. Getting involved early helps Crunchyroll make sure a finished show lands on its service, instead of being snapped up elsewhere.

Why this strategy makes sense for Crunchyroll

Joining a production committee comes with upfront risk. Crunchyroll is putting money into something that hasn’t been made yet, and might not be good. Even if it’s just one name in a long list of committee members, it’s still funding a gamble.

But the payoff is obvious: once the anime is complete, the platform can say, “We backed this. We get the rights.” That security matters when you’re trying to keep subscribers and control your seasonal line-up.

How this can shape the anime slate

There’s also a bigger industry angle here. Many animation studios are booked out for years. The idea is blunt: a lot of major studios are effectively scheduled five years ahead.

That means there are people in the industry who likely know a big chunk of what’s coming years in advance, even if they can’t talk about it. When a company with Crunchyroll’s reach decides what it wants to help fund (and later push hard in marketing), that choice can influence:

• Which projects get an easier path to funding
• Which genres keep getting greenlit
• Which titles become “the shows of the season” for a lot of viewers

If you want a quick refresher on how much genre and archetype drive anime packaging, this Anime Character Types Explained guide is a useful companion. It helps spell out why certain roles (like “overpowered lead” or “brooding anti-hero”) keep showing up, especially in fantasy-heavy seasons.

A current example: My Status as an Assassin Obviously Exceeds the Hero’s

This season, one Crunchyroll-involved title getting a real marketing push is My Status as an Assassin Obviously Exceeds the Hero’s. The show itself is described as fine, but it’s also a clear example of a familiar formula.

At a high level, it plays like a fairly standard isekai set-up:

1. A whole class gets summoned to a fantasy world.
2. They’re evaluated through a stats system (including a very game-like “orb” moment).
3. The main character turns out to be absurdly powerful, because he’s an assassin.
4. The kingdom that summoned them seems to have a shady reason for doing it.

It’s the kind of series where you can almost see the trope checklist. That’s not always a bad thing, but it does make the show feel instantly comparable to other hits.

For reference points on the series and how it’s presented publicly, you can see the listing on Anime-Planet’s entry for My Status as an Assassin Obviously Exceeds the Hero’s, or watch the official English-subtitled trailer on YouTube.

The Shield Hero vibes (without the full comparison)

What stands out is how much the early feel can remind people of Rising of the Shield Hero. There are parallels you could draw, and it’s telling that Crunchyroll strongly backed Shield Hero when it landed.

So when Crunchyroll is also attached to this assassin series, it doesn’t feel random. It feels like a platform following a proven template.

What “co-produce” usually means (and what it doesn’t)

When people hear “co-produced by Crunchyroll”, it’s easy to picture something like a “Crunchyroll Original” label, or the way Netflix brands “Netflix Original” anime.

In practice, those labels don’t always tell you much.

Most of the time, Crunchyroll’s “co-producing” is simply this: it’s on the production committee.

Production committees can be large, with a mix of stakeholders. Each member can be there for different reasons. Crunchyroll’s interests tend to be focused on distribution and commercial rights in its markets, not on writing, directing, or animation choices.

That doesn’t mean there are never exceptions. If a platform is high enough on the committee, it may have more say. But the safe assumption is:

• The anime probably would have existed without Crunchyroll’s involvement.
• Crunchyroll wanted to secure the rights and make sure it streams the show.
• The committee spot helps that happen, and helps the project’s cash flow.

The isekai and fantasy feedback loop

Looking at the kinds of projects Crunchyroll gets behind (and then promotes), a pattern shows up quickly. A lot of them sit in the same broad bucket: isekai, fantasy power trips, game-like stat systems, and similar wish-fulfilment beats.

A sample of titles mentioned as part of that 2025 co-production mix includes:

• Solo Leveling
• The Beginning After the End
• Water Magician
• Rising of the Shield Hero (Season 4)
• Reincarnated as a Seventh Prince
• Salaryman Who Went to Another World and Became One of the Four Heavenly Kings
• I Left My A-Rank Party and Went to the Deepest Part of the Dungeon (not isekai, still fantasy formula)
• Clavitz (not isekai, darker fantasy tone)
• A “bogus skill fruit master” type title
• Noble on the Brink of Ruin, So Might as Well Try Mastering Magic
• A title described as “given the worthless appraiser class” (wording unclear, but framed as part of the same trend)

Even without perfect naming, the point is clear: there’s a “type”.

And that type can turn into a feedback loop:

1. Platforms promote what they think people will binge.
2. Those shows pull high view counts because they’re easy to keep watching.
3. Committees and investors see the numbers and greenlight more of the same.
4. Studios get booked making similar projects because that’s what’s ordered.

There’s also no shortage of source material ready to adapt. Manga, light novels, and webtoons can supply fantasy stories for ages. If the market reward stays strong, it’s hard to imagine that supply drying up.

Why view counts can beat reputation

A frustrating part of seasonal anime talk is how often the loudest conversation doesn’t match what’s actually being watched.

One example raised was The Beginning After the End. The anime, as discussed, has a reputation for being poorly animated and not doing justice to its source material (which is often said to be better). People dunk on it, sometimes fairly.

And yet, it reportedly pulled very high view numbers, even landing among the most watched anime in the early part of 2025. Some of that could be hate-watching. Some could be curiosity. Either way, the streaming metric still reads “success”.

That’s why platforms tend to favour safe bets, like:

• Fantasy and isekai (reliable binge genres)
• Sequels (built-in audiences)
• Familiar hooks that are easy to market in a thumbnail and one sentence

The public conversation might be negative, but the watch-time can still be massive. From a streaming platform’s view, that’s what pays the bills.

Sequels, safe bets, and why some shows get ignored

Sequels are the easiest win. They come with recognition and momentum, and they dominate seasonal chatter anyway.

That’s also why someone covering seasonal anime might avoid sequels, prequels, and spin-offs, not because they’re bad, but because everyone else will cover them no matter what. If the goal is finding something fresh, it makes sense to spend time on the less obvious picks.

The examples raised here were blunt:

• People were already talking about Dan Da Dan.
• A third season of Fire Force will get attention on name alone.
• A second season of Solo Leveling basically markets itself.

So the more interesting hunt is for the oddballs and originals, the shows that won’t get pushed by default.

When a sleeper hit needs someone else to light the fuse

Even when Crunchyroll does have a strong, different show, it doesn’t always push it early.

Odd Taxi was pointed out as a good case. It was on the service, but it didn’t get much priority until it gained traction from outside attention, including coverage from YouTubers. (Geoff Thew is mentioned as one of the voices who helped build that wave.)

At that point, the platform can spotlight it on the homepage and benefit from the buzz, but it didn’t necessarily create the buzz.

Personal taste versus platform taste

There’s a simple tension in all of this: Crunchyroll is often making picks “for the crowd”, not for every individual viewer.

That doesn’t mean everything it backs is bad. There are guilty pleasures in the mix, and sometimes a “junk food” show is exactly what people want after work.

Two examples called out positively, even with caveats:

• May I Ask for One Final Thing?, described as hilarious this season.
• I Left My A-Rank Party and Went to the Deepest Part of the Dungeon, enjoyed as a guilty pleasure (helped along by the lead reading as a “red mage” type).

At the same time, a lot of favourite shows over the years sit outside the current factory line, including:

• Frieren (a fantasy success that doesn’t rely on the usual isekai beats)
• Orb, Milky Subway, and Uamus (mentioned as standouts this year)
• Made in Abyss
• Laid-Back Camp
• A Place Further than the Universe
• Violet Evergarden
• Bocchi the Rock

Crunchyroll sometimes picks up shows like these, but the frustration is that they may not get the same marketing push unless they prove themselves first.

The five-year pipeline problem (and the fear of staleness)

If studios are heavily booked years in advance, the “trend lag” becomes real.

It means a breakout hit today can’t instantly reshape next season. The pipeline is already full. So the popular style of 2025 can keep echoing into 2028, 2029, and 2030, because the orders were effectively placed long ago.

That’s where the worry about staleness comes in. Animation can do anything. It can tell any kind of story, in any style, with any tone. Repeating the same basic power-fantasy loop over and over can feel like shrinking the medium down to one safe meal.

Solo Leveling is a key example here. It’s enjoyable, and it clearly succeeded for reasons that include standout animation moments. But the concern isn’t the show itself. The concern is what decision-makers think the success “means”, then what they copy next.

If the takeaway becomes “make more things that look like this”, you risk doubling down on the wrong ingredients, and you flood the schedule with imitators.

Where to find more from Glass Reflection (podcast and socials)

If you want more long-form anime talk in this style, there’s also a podcast project mentioned: Quest for the Best, featuring Geoff (Mother’s Basement) Thew, Miles (formerly Crunchyroll) Atherton, and Glass Reflection.

You can start with the Quest for the Best first episode on YouTube, or follow it on audio via Quest for the Best on Apple Podcasts and Quest for the Best on Spotify.

Support options and updates were also shared via Glass Reflection’s Patreon and Glass Reflection on Bluesky.

Conclusion

Crunchyroll’s growing role on production committees helps explain why certain genres, especially isekai and fantasy, keep showing up in force. It’s a sensible business move: fund early, secure the rights, promote what tends to pull big viewing numbers.

The downside is the risk of a narrower seasonal menu, especially with studios booked years ahead and success stories like Solo Leveling pushing copycat thinking. If you’ve been feeling that seasons blur together, it’s not just you.

If one platform’s choices can boost a show into the mainstream, it can also leave other great series quiet. That’s why it’s worth talking about what gets promoted, what gets ignored, and what kinds of anime we want to see more of next.